


All for the Maze

by uberimmortal



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: All warnings from AFTG series, Alternate Universe - Maze Runner, Angst, Blood and Gore, Character Death, Flashbacks, Fluff, Gun Violence, I suck at tags, Im still working on this fic!, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Torture, Insomnia, M/M, Memory Loss, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slow Burn, Suicide, Torture, im just taking my sweet old time, no exy, putting that tag just to be safe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-16
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-02-01 08:01:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 90,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21450469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uberimmortal/pseuds/uberimmortal
Summary: Neil remembered the corridor turned left at the last second when he swung and the wall disappeared. Swinging backward, he kicked his legs and twisted around. His body slammed into the corner. The wind knocked out of him. He let go, arms flailing.Out of the corner of his eye he saw the Griever lunge forward. He reached out for anything to stop him from plunging to his death. His fingers gripped a vine and ripped his hand bloody and raw. Neil grasped the vine with his other hand and pushed himself off the wall with both feet. Narrowly missing the Grievers tail. It cracked the stone where Neil was seconds before.
Relationships: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Comments: 251
Kudos: 216





	1. The Glade

A low rumble woke him from a deep sleep. It was pitch black. The metal floor pressed against his back vibrated. In a panic, he jumped onto his feet, bracing himself for something, anything. He heard the walls shutter before chains rattled, echoing around him. He fell onto his knees as gravity forced him to do so. The room was pulled upward.

On his hands and knees he shuffled backwards until his shoes touched something sturdy. He pressed his back against whatever it was. The noise was unbearable, loud and high pitched. Sweaty palms pressed hard against his ears as he tried to block it out. Despite the cool breeze, beads of sweat rolled down his face and soaked into his shirt.

There was no way to tell how much time had passed. Suddenly the room hushed and the walls no longer vibrated. He lowered his hands to rest them on both knees. After two deep breaths, the ceiling opened up, split in two large metal doors. Bright sunlight stung his eyes, tears threatened to fall down his cheeks. He covered his head with both arms.

"We got one!"

"Move, let me look."

"It's just a kid."

There were many voices, male and female. Eventually they merged as one and he could no longer make out any words. He lowered his arms, squinting against the light. Faces looked down at him, leaning on all edges of the box he was currently stuck in. Their bodies were silhouetted. His chest tightened with panic. He had to get out.

Looking around him he noticed a pile of tools just out of reach. As they all continued to mumble with each other, he reached out, when he felt the wooden handle he chucked it. A girl just managed to dodge the flying hammer. The group erupted in a series of threats.

"Watch it, shank!"

"Just get him out already!"

Two heads disappeared, then after a moment a makeshift wooden ladder dropped into the metal room across from him. Without thinking, he pushed himself off the floor and bolted for the ladder. He was at the top in no time. Quickly the others gathered around him.

His head spun as he tried to make sense of their faces. They surrounded him, blocking his view. Fear settled into the pit of his stomach as they came closer. His chest heaved at a rapid rate, struggling to catch his breath.

"He's gonna freak out."

He turned his head to the voice but it was lost as others laughed. Their facial features blurred together.

"Hey, shank," someone grabbed his shoulder from behind.

Immediately he turned around and thrust the palm of his hand outward. It landed against a girl’s chest with a harsh and loud thud. She gasped for air, stumbling backwards. His senses were on overdrive.

"What the-" another person latched on his left bicep.

Without missing a beat he swung his right fist. A harsh smack silenced the crowd as his fist connected with bone. The boy he struck stepped back. He held his, most likely dislocated jaw tenderly.

Another split second passed and he was running. He shouldered his way through the crowd. Once he was free his feet pounded against dirt and grass. There were angry yells screaming from behind him.

Surrounding him were huge four stone walls, hundreds of feet high, with thick vines reaching the top like veins. Each wall had an open slit directly in the center. He raced for the one closest to him. There were more people, some sat under huts, others tended to a garden. They all gawked and turned their heads to watch the chaos.

He couldn't focus on them, or anything else except escaping. Blood pounded in his ears, his lungs burned with each breath, every muscle in his legs screamed in pain.

_Run. Run._

The slit grew larger as he approached it. Various corridors as tall as the four walls revealed themselves. Out there, it was darker, with no grass or any other signs of life. Only stone.

He was a few more yards away when a steel shovel smacked against his ribs. He landed harshly on his side, clutching his stomach. With the air knocked out of him he had no strength to get up. He curled in on himself. People surrounded him, he didn't look up. Hot white pain stopped his ability to see or function for a minute. He coughed and choked.

"Fuck, Andrew!" It was a girl who spoke.

"You killed him!" a boy yelled.

A raspy breath escaped his lips, finally allowing in oxygen. He forced himself onto his hands and knees once more, keeping his head low. In his peripheral black leather boots stepped towards him.

The same girl behind him said, "Wait, Andrew, don't-"

He looked up just in time to see the shovel. His instinct took over, he grabbed onto the wooden stick below the metal, only inches from the other boy’s hand. Yanking it from his attackers grip, he forced himself onto his feet. He stood on guard, knuckles white as he gripped the shovel like a lifeline.

"Stay back," he croaked out in warning.

His voice sounded different to him, as if he forgot what it was supposed to sound like. To those around him he must have looked like an animal; sweaty, dirt smeared on his clothes and skin, and bits of grass stuck in his hair. His eyes were blood shot and he threatened to hit anyone who moved.

In front of him stood the attacker. A blonde haired boy who was shorter than the rest. His expression flat, with the exception of his left eyebrow raised slightly. Thick strong arms crossed over his chest. The others dressed the same as the blonde, but in neutral colors not solid black. On the smallest bodies their clothes hung loosely, and on the rest it looked either too tight or a perfect fit.

A dark skinned girl with short choppy brown hair stepped forward. She held her hands up in surrender. The blonde paid her no attention as she joined a place beside him.

He raised the shovel, drawing the metal behind his shoulder like a baseball bat. Baseball? He brushed the confusing memory away. The girl seemed to get the message and kept still.

"It's okay," she said. Everyone was quiet and the mood tense.

"Where am I?" he asked, still panting from the long sprint and throbbing ribs.

"The Glade," she said.

He shook his head at her answer. The hell is a Glade? What is he doing there? He took the opportunity to look around.

In one corner of the square was a garden. He saw corn, tomatoes, apple trees, and other plants he didn’t recognize. The corner diagonal to the garden sat a bundle of large and tall trees, some were chopped down but the greenery was still thick and full. Next to the miniature forest was a small building made out of various sizes of logs. There were pens keeping farm animals locked inside where they grazed the grass. The largest building sat across from the animals, smaller huts surrounded it. Dead center in the square was the metal box from which he came from.

Above him the sky was bright and blue. With no sign of the sun, he couldn't place what time of day it was.

"What's your name?" the dark skinned girl asked. His eyes snapped to her, his hands flexed around the shovel. "Come on, I know you remember that much at least."

His name? He tried to focus. Alex, Stefan, Chris, Junior, Abram, Nathaniel. There were too many.

"I-" he started, his panting worsened as he struggled to speak. He shook his head.

"Isn't that interesting," the blonde boy spoke in a bored nonchalant tone. Everyone looked at him.

"Andrew," a tall boy glared at the blonde, who had been named now. The one that spoke stepped forward, he was taller of course. His skin a deep olive tone which blended well with his dark brown eyes. Black hair framed his face in soft curls. "Oh," he clapped his hands together with a wide smile as he looked the new comer up and down. The loud noise made the scared boy flinch. "Dibs. You hear that everyone? I call dibs."

"Nicky," the girl smacked his arm, "give him some space."

"But look at him," Nicky chided. "I love gingers." He raised his hand to touch the boy’s hair.

Before he had the chance to swing the shovel, Andrew stepped forward and pressed a knife against his side. The constant chatter came to a deadly silence. Cold metal poked through the thin cotton material, not enough to draw blood, but enough to feel the sharp edge. Andrew’s hazel eyes held no sign of emotion.

"You have a lot of balls, Greenie," Andrew said. The tip of the knife twisted ever so slightly. Andrew was only a few inches shorter than him.

"You don't want to do that," the red head whispered. They were close enough to feel each other's breath.

Andrew tilted his head. "Don't I?"

"Alright, enough!" the girl yelled. "Andrew, put that thing away. Jesus Christ."

Andrew leaned in close, ignoring the order. His blonde hair just barely brushed against the boy’s face. 

"I'll warn you once," Andrew lowered his voice so just the two of them could hear. The red head clenched his jaw and stiffened his back. "You continue to be a problem, I'll put a stop to it. Got it, Greenie?"

The boy said nothing, frozen under the knife.

"Shows over," the girl told everyone. "Back to work."

The crowd voiced their disapproval but did as they were told. Leaving only her, Nicky, Andrew, and him. Andrew finally retreated. He saw where the knife disappeared to, a black sleeve on Andrew's forearms, they covered the skin up to both elbows.

"This way, Greenie," the girl motioned him to follow. He didn't let go of the shovel but walked beside her anyway, desperate to get away from Andrew. “I'm Dan."

He looked behind his shoulder. Andrew and Nicky stayed behind. Nicky was speaking with his hands gesturing wildly. Andrew ignored him completely and watched the two leave. Then he looked past them into the dark corridors. Its eerie silence made him nervous.

"I'll show you around tomorrow," Dan continued. They walked towards the large building and jumble of huts. "It'll be dark soon."

The shadows from the wall covered half of the square now. He averted his eyes from the intense stares people gave him. There had to be at least forty or fifty people living there. Dan led him to a man made trench, next to the three story building. Twisted vines covered the trench and the ground was lined with straw.

"What is this?" he took a step back.

Dan held open the small entrance. "A precaution," she said, "I don't want you wandering on your own and hurting anyone else." He swallowed back the guilt. "I'm asking you nicely to go in, or I can force you. And I don't feel like that right now."

"How long?" he asked. 

Looking around, he noticed people were walking to a bigger hut. They stood in a line. He couldn't see what they were waiting for.

"Till morning," Dan said. "Then we'll give you a proper introduction." Her smile seemed genuine yet cautious.

He looked in the cell, if it could even be called that. The vines were woven expertly and they were buried deep into the earth. There were enough gaps to see inside and large enough to stick his hand through. Exhaustion crashed into him, his body ached and his tongue felt like sand paper.

"It's only one night," Dan reassured.

He looked up at her, then to the walls. "Why am I here?"

She sighed and swept a curl away from her eyes, it fell back in the same place, “Look, it's a long story. We don't know why we're here, or who put us here. It's hard to explain."

He shook his head, "I don't understand."

"I know, kid."

"I'm not a kid," he glared.

Dan shrugged, "How old are you then?"

His jaw clenched as he thought. His head throbbed to remember anything about who he was. Seventeen, nineteen, lie, lie. Don't tell her. Tell her what? There's nothing to tell.

"Don't hurt yourself there," Dan kept her distance despite having the urge to come closer. "Some of it will come back to you in a few days. You need to rest right now. I'll have someone bring you bedding and food. I bet you're pretty thirsty."

He licked his dry cracked lips. Water sounded like heaven itself at that moment. After a long deep breath, he dropped the shovel and crawled into the cell. It had more room than he thought, he could stretch his legs out fully without feeling cramped but could only sit up on his knees until vines pressed down on his head. He watched Dan tie the entrance closed with a rope. The reliability of the cell was questionable, with a few hard kicks he was sure he could break it open.

"Doing okay?" Dan asked once she was done. He didn't respond. "Sorry about all this. Like I said, just a precaution. Someone will be here soon." She rose from her crouch and walked off.

Alone at last, he looked over himself. His gray cargo pants were stained beyond repair and so was his light blue long sleeved shirt. With a feather light touch, he brushed his fingertips along his ribs. The pain was hot and sharp. Biting back a whimper, he lifted the shirt to see how bad it was. He gasped at what he found.

Scars covered his torso, a long thick scar traced below his naval. More appeared as he traveled up but he had to stop at the black and blue bruising. He undid the three buttons at the collar. Stretching the fabric over his shoulder, he could barely continue to look. The skin was scarred from a burn with pale circles along the edge. He recognized the shape as an iron but had no memory of what happened. Skin puckered around a coin sized divot. Did he get shot? The worse of the scars were numb and rigid. He couldn't find an inch of skin that wasn't cut up or ruined in some way.

Unable to handle any more, he buttoned his shirt. Both of his hands trembled in his lap, his breathing erratic. What the fuck happened to him? He searched through his pockets next, and was surprised to find a crumpled yellow paper. It took a minute to unfold it since his fingers shook violently.

In black ink it read: Neil Josten. Get out. Don't trust them. Run.

The paper fell from his grasp, he pushed himself back as far as he could. 

Neil Josten. Neil. Neil. Run. He felt like he was suffocating in the small compressed space. Run. Shuffling on his knees, he slammed his back against the vines. They held their place. Get out. He tried again using all the strength left in his legs. It did nothing.

Neil. He's Neil. His name is Neil.

Neil collapsed on the straw bedding. He lay on his side, knees pulled against his chest, and struggled to breathe. Each inhale was a harsh cough. The world around him faded into black.

-

"Hey, Greenie!"

Neil bolted upright. He hit his head on the woven cage and quickly fell back down. With a grunt Neil cradled his throbbing head.

It was dark now, almost pitch black except torches casted long shadows in his cell. Neil heard people talking and laughing. Kneeling above him was a tall boy. He was giant compared to Neil. In the darkness Neil couldn't make out distinct features. The boy held a clay plate and cup in both hands. Neil smelt the food before he saw it, his stomach rumbled.

"Didn't mean to scare you," the boy said. "Guess I should have been a little gentler. Name's Matt." He smiled. Neil said nothing. Matt cleared his throat, "I brought you dinner."

Matt set the cup down and fussed with a rope Neil didn't notice before. Once untied it opened just enough to slide the plate and cup in. Neil took it without hesitation, hunger making the best of him. He drank the water first, gulping it down. It was warm and tasted like iron but he didn't care. It soothed the dryness of his throat. Neil wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

A bread roll, cob of corn, and a slab of over cooked pork waited on the plate. Neil split the roll in half, steam rose from the middle. He sighed at the warmth in his mouth, ignoring the dirt caked under his nails. The rest of the bland unseasoned meal was eaten all too quickly. By the time it was over Neil wished there were more. Then he remembered he still had company. Matt watched quietly with his arms wrapped around his knees.

Neil pushed the plate away, clattering against the cup. The yellow paper caught his eye. Quickly he grabbed it and held it tightly in his first. If Matt noticed he didn't show any sign.

"Better?" Matt asked. Neil glanced at him. "Do you feel any better?"

"I'm fine," Neil said.

Matt huffed. "Well then, I got you a blanket." He stuffed a wool blanket in the small hole. It fell onto Neil's dirty combat boots.

Neil looked behind Matt. "They're closed," Neil said. He had a decent view of one wall, and as he said, the slit from earlier was sealed shut.

Matt followed Neil's eyes, craning his neck. "Oh," he said when he realized. "I'm surprised you didn't hear it, fucking things are loud as hell. Loudest alarm clock I've ever heard."

Neil’s eye brows pulled together in confusion at that. He didn't have any memory of what an alarm clock was, he wondered why Matt did.

"Who closed them?" Neil asked. Matt turned back around, dropping his leg on the ground.

"Who knows," Matt shrugged. "Don't ask too many questions yet, Greenie. You'll just freak yourself out."

Neil took a deep breath, not wanting to throw up his dinner. He changed the conversation, "Why does everyone call me Greenie?"

Matt grinned, "Something we call every new guy. Trust me, it's better than shank. Shank is like," he paused to think, "asshole or douche, but not as mean I guess. It depends who you say it to. Dan told me you don't remember your name, so we got to call you something other than that or ginger."

"Neil," Neil said, "it's Neil."

"Nice to meet you, Neil," Matt stuck his open hand through the vines. Neil was hesitant at first, but took the invitation. Matt’s skin was dried and cracked. He pulled his hand back. "So, I heard you kicked the shit out of Seth."

"Seth?"

"That shank you punched," Matt shook his head.

"Oh," Neil leaned back against the dirt. "Is he okay?"

"Do you care?" Matt asked.

"Not really." It was true, Neil didn't care. He honestly hadn't thought about Seth or the other girl he hit once.

Matt laughed, "I thought so. But yeah, he's alright. Pissed off though. There's already bets about who will win again."

"Bets?"

"It's how we keep ourselves entertained. There's probably like twenty different pools right now. I've got a lot riding on Allison and Seth.”

Neil pressed two fingers against his temple in an effort to keep away a headache. "What will happen tomorrow?"

Matt scratched his jaw. Neil heard his nails rub against scruff.

"Everyone will meet in Homestead before breakfast. Dan will introduce you to them. She'll decide where you'll sleep and work."

"Dan, she's in charge?"

Matt's mouth twitched into a sly smile. "Basically. She's been here a long time."

"How long is long?"

"Four years, I think? I can't remember," Matt leaned against the vines. "She was one of the first, then I got here a couple months after. I can't imagine going through all of this alone for a whole month."

Matt yawned loudly and stretched his arms above his head.

"Alright," Matt said. He leaned forward on his knees. "I'm going to sleep. You should too." He pushed himself onto his feet. Before walking away he said, "Ignore all of the noise, it's just the Maze." He left. 

Neil rubbed his face with both hands. He tried to piece everything together from their conversation. Yet nothing made sense. Every question he asked was followed by more. The Glade, the Maze, they all sounded familiar to him for some reason. Had he been here before? No, there was no way he’d forget something like this.

He tucked the note back into his back pocket. The black ink burned into his mind. Neil Josten. That had to be who he was. Then who were the other people? The other names he could remember?

Get out. Run. Don't trust them. Run.

Neil grabbed the clay plate Matt left behind. It felt hand made and fragile enough to break. He held the plate at an angle, then stomped his heel in the center. It shattered into pieces. Neil felt each piece until he found one that had a pointed tip and was sturdy enough to not break on impact. The clay shard fit snugly into the pocket on his right thigh. 

He took his time unbuttoning the pocket’s flap again and again, testing his draw speed and efficiency. Once satisfied Neil collected the other shards into the cup.

Slowly, one by one, torches were distinguished. Feet rustled against grass as they walked past Neil. They paid him little to no attention. Neil didn't mind.

Still hot and sweaty from the dry heat, Neil scrunched the blanket together to resemble a pillow. He made himself as comfortable as he could. Neil laid on his back, hands folded over his stomach, carefully avoiding his ribs, and crossed his legs at the ankle. He tried to sleep, but the noise kept him awake.

Mechanical groans echoed in the Glade, bouncing off the walls. Every few seconds he heard a rapid clicking, or a sharp screech that sounded too close to human. It was then that he felt glad to be in the small cage, protected from whatever was beyond those stone doors.

Neil counted in his head and kept his eyes squeezed shut. He nearly made it to one thousand before exhaustion took over. The last thing he heard was the Maze, it sounded like a knife carving into bone.


	2. Blood House

The walls were loud, very loud. Neil's heart almost jumped out of his chest when he heard them. In a state between sleep and reality, he pulled out the clay shard from his pocket. The sharp edge dug into his palm. 

It took him a moment to remember where he was. It came back to him all too quickly. He took deep breaths and counted to ten in his head to keep calm. Neil was too exhausted to panic just yet. Sunlight poured through the gaps in his cell. He blinked as his eyes adjusted.

Sitting up was worse. He gritted his teeth and hissed. It felt like hot needles poking his ribs. Neil took small uneven breaths. Black spots danced across his vision. The restless night did Neil's body no favors. Everything hurt. Neil forced himself onto his knees and waddled forward, powering through the pain. He wove his fingers through the vines to keep himself upright while he watched the wall closest to him.

Five people stood in front of the wall, huddled into a tight circle. They wore backpacks and running shoes. The tallest was a boy with dark hair, he pointed behind him into the Maze as he spoke.

Neil couldn't hear what he was saying but assumed it was important based on his hand gestures. The four others scribbled furiously on journals and notepads. Two were girls, Neil guessed, since they had long hair and curvier figures.

All of them adjusted their backpacks and shook out their limbs. The tallest faced the slow moving stone, he bounced on the balls of his feet. The slit opened like a sliding door. Neil wondered how anything that heavy could possibly move.

The group jogged into the Maze, the tall boy leading them. Neil followed them as long as he could before they disappeared. The loud noise stopped. The door was now completely open, practically begging Neil to go through it.

"Good morning!"

Neil jumped back in surprise then immediately winced. Matt towered over him, he dressed the same but had a brown jacket on. He was smiling and his arms were stretched out.

"Told you those fuckers would wake you up," Matt laughed. He bent down and started to untie a rope. He pulled the entrance open. "Come on, they're waiting."

Neil crawled through the hole, as he did he slyly slid his shiv back into his pants. He stood, panting and clutching his ribs with one arm.

"You good?" Matt asked.

Neil avoided his gaze. "I'm fine," he gritted out.

They stood there for another moment. Neil mentally thanked Matt for giving him time to put himself back together. Matt led Neil to the large wooden building, Homestead. It was three stories tall with plenty of windows, although they had no glass. Matt held back the sheet which acted as the front door.

Inside it was surprisingly spacious with a large open foyer. Crooked stairs lined the back wall leading up to another sheeted doorway. Dark brown wallpaper covered the walls, most of it peeling off in long strips that curled at the end. Two round tables rested in the middle of the room, on one table was a dusty green vase and the other a picture frame of a man dressed in black. The photo rubbed him the wrong way so he avoided staring for too long. Florescent lights flickered from the ceiling, making the vibe more menacing than welcoming. Neil questioned how they had electricity in the Glade.

Dan sat at the table with the vase, next to her was a pretty girl. She had delicate yet striking features. Platinum blonde hair fell over her shoulders in loose curls. Her white shirt was skin tight and tucked in dark green cargo pants. Gray eyes looked Neil up and down. The corners of her lips pulled back in a smirk.

Another more petite girl sat with them. She had a short bob, her hair almost white. Neil guessed she had it bleached that color. The clothes on her were loose and plain. Her soft appearance gave her an unthreatening look, but her eyes were hard and stern. She looked like she could pick you apart with one glance. Quickly, Neil moved on.

At the other table he had to blink twice to comprehend what he was seeing. Andrew sat there, his feet on the table looking up at the ceiling, bored. Next to him, was another Andrew, but clearly not. They were identical except for their clothing and expression. Neil could only tell them apart by Andrew's black arm bands. Brothers most likely.

Matt stepped around Neil and took a seat next to Dan. They sat closer than necessary. Neil stayed where he was.

Dan cleared her throat and stood, "Everyone, this is the Newbie."

The pretty girl learned forward on her elbows, her chin resting on her folded slender hands. "Hey cutie," she said.

Neil ignored the weird greeting. He kept looking back at the blonde boys. Andrew pushed back on his chair, balancing on two wooden legs.

"This is Allison," Dan rested her hand on the pretty girls shoulder, "our lovely Track-Hoe." Neil couldn't imagine Allison's clean manicured nails digging up weeds. "Renee, best Builder we have." The white haired girl smiled, pleased with the compliment. Dan continued, "The Monsters over there are Andrew and Aaron." She waved them off.

Andrew gave no reaction. Aaron glared at Dan.

Aaron was the one who spoke next, "I'm the one and only Med-Jack in this klunk hole. So, don't bother me unless you're dying." His words were laced with annoyance. Neil imagined Aaron had a lot of people coming to him with their minuscule problems. “My bother here works in the Blood House."

Andrew gazed at Neil who gripped his shirt with one fist. His ribs throbbed under Andrew's stare. Neil made a mental note to keep his distance.

"I'm First-in-Command," Dan said. "You have any questions or concerns, you come to me. Got it?"

Neil nodded.

"Good," Dan said. "Everyone here are Keepers, they're in charge. You don't like it, I don't really care. Newbies like you," she pointed at Neil, "listen to them. You do what they say. You follow instructions."

Andrew interrupted her practiced speech with an exaggerated sigh. "Are we done yet?" Andrew asked. His arms hung loosely at his sides. Allison rolled her eyes.

"No," Dan said. She groaned and sat down. "Renee."

Renee straightened her posture. "There are rules here," she tapped her fingers against the table. "Everybody does their part. We don't put up with slackers. Second, never hurt another Glader. Nothing works if we don't trust each other."

Neil scoffed and looked over at Andrew. "What a great first impression you all have," Neil said.

Andrew’s head rolled to the side to stare plainly back at Neil, "I wasn't the one freaking out, remember?" Andrew waited for a response. Neil bit back a rude remark.

"Lastly," Renee raised her voice slightly, "don't go outside the Glade. Ever. Only the Runners are allowed."

"Why?" Neil asked. "What's out there?"

"The Maze," Matt finally spoke, his long legs stretched out under the table.

"It's dangerous," Dan broke the uncomfortable silence. "So you stay in here where it's safe."

Neil scrunched his eye brows together. He felt his head ache teeter on the edge of a migraine. Dangerous? He thought back to last night and all of those sounds coming from behind the walls.

"It's a long story," Renee shrugged.

"Then tell me," Neil said, sick of not knowing. "Tell me the long story."

Renee crossed her arms and leaned back against in the chair.

"Every month the Box comes up," Dan started. "They give us clothes, supplies, and someone new. Our memories are wiped, except for our names.” Her eyes glazed over as she thought about the last. “It's been like this for four years." 

Neil wanted to ask who they were.

"Outside the Glade," Matt continued for her, "is the Maze. Every night the doors close and every morning they open. During the night it moves, changes. That's why we have the Runners. They go out and spend the day writing everything down.”

“Have they found anything?" Neil asked. Matt looked down at his lap. "Nothing? For four years you've found nothing?"

"Remember your place, Greenie," Aaron scolded. "We've been here a lot longer than you. Everything you're thinking, we already tried, twice."

"He's right," Renee agreed. Matt mumbled his approval.

"I think we're done now," Dan announced. The others stood from their chairs. "For the next week, you'll work with each Keeper till we find you a job."

"He'll be a Slopper for sure," Aaron said smugly. He was the first to leave, shouldering Neil out of his way.

Renee politely stepped around Neil. "Good luck," she said before drawing back the swaying sheet.

Allison followed her, her bottom lip pulled between her teeth. Neil did his best to avoid her lingering gaze.

"I'll go check on breakfast," Matt said. "Those shanks probably burnt the eggs again." He squeezed Dan’s bicep as he left.

Andrew had his arms crossed over his chest.

"You'll be going with him," Dan said.

"Why?" Neil questioned. He didn't want to be any where near Andrew.

"Greenies always work with the Slicers first," Dan pulled back the curtain. "Be nice, Andrew." She left them alone.

Neil turned back to the blonde but he was already walking towards Neil. Neil stayed where he was. He prepared himself for conflict. Andrew stopped to stare at him. It was silent for a second too long.

"Are you squeamish?" Andrew asked.

Neil swallowed the saliva building in his mouth. "Uh, no."

Andrew’s eyes flickered down to Neil’s chest before he walked outside. Neil followed, keeping his distance.

The Glade buzzed with life. Compared to Homestead, it was nice outside. It smelled like hay and grass, and the warm breeze eased his nerves. The pros almost out weighed the cons until Neil remembered that he was trapped inside a stone box with strangers who beat him with shovels. 

Boys and girls talked amongst themselves in front of huts. A group of girls giggled as Andrew and Neil walked past. Neil paid them no attention. He could have sworn he saw Andrew clench his fist.

Andrew led Neil to a hut away from the others. He stopped near the entrance. The door was open. Inside he saw two cots with pillows and thin blankets. In one corner a leaning book shelf was propped against a chair. Folded shirts and pants were stuffed in each shelf. The left cot was messy with its blanket pushed to the side. The furniture was made out of wood and twine.

"You'll be sleeping here," Andrew said, he watched people walk by.

"My roommate?" Neil acknowledged the personal items.

"Matt. Is that going to be a problem?" Andrew challenged.

"No. It's fine."

With a curt nod they moved on. Andrew explained the doors to the Maze and their names. It was easy to remember as it was only North, East, West, and South. The North door was between Homestead and the garden, or as Andrew called it, the Tree Grove. In the south west corner was the Deadheads. When Neil asked why they called it that, Andrew brushed him off. In front of the South door was a small concrete rectangular building. Neil was told with a bored look that only Runners are allowed in the Map Room.

"There's nothing important in there anyway," Andrew said.

"I doubt it," Neil said. Andrew ignored him.

They stopped in front of the animal pens. The smell of manure almost made Neil gag. As for the Blood House, it was musty and small. Inside it was dark except for a few dull light bulbs hanging from the ceiling. 

Three other boys were there dressed in knee high leather boots, white aprons, and black leather gloves reaching up to their biceps. Two gutted pigs hung from giant hooks in the back. Four tables were covered in various animal parts. Including chickens, cows, and goats. A large barrel sat under a faucet in one corner, a bar of soap balanced on the rusted metal.

Andrew pulled off an apron from a hook near the front door. He swung the loop over his head and tied the strap around his waist. Neil noticed the apron looked long on the short blonde, it hung past his shins. Andrew kicked off his shoes to slip his feet in knee high boots. More identical aprons and boots lined up neatly against the wall. Andrew kept his arm bands on since the gloves covered them anyway.

Andrew turned to find Neil watching him. "Hurry up," Andrew said. He joined the other Slicers.

Neil hurried, awkwardly tying the apron and finding boots that were too big on him. He left his shoes next to Andrew’s. Thankfully he found a pair of gloves that fit well enough.

It was easy to spot Andrew as he was the only one holding a dead pig. The pig was almost the same size as Andrew, yet he hauled it onto an empty table with ease. The carcass landed with a heavy thud. Andrew reached under the table and felt for something. He pulled out a large butchers knife and a long thin curved blade. The steel reflected the sun rays streaming in through a window.

"Neil," Andrew said.

Neil's name ripped him from his thoughts. Did Andrew know him? Does he remember anything? A cold bead of sweat dripped off Neil’s auburn hair and down his neck.

"How do you know my name?" Neil walked over and stood opposite from Andrew, the pig between them. 

The Slicers ignored them and continued their jobs. Every so often a knife would chop down against wood.

"Matt," Andrew continued the one word responses he seemed to always have.

"Oh," Neil said, tension left his shoulders.

Andrew held the curved knife in his right hand, he made a deep cut below the pig’s ear and cheek. Its ears flopped as Andrew worked the knife around the neck bone. The blade cut through muscle fibers like soft butter. Neil watched Andrew’s skilled hands. With the side of the knife, Andrew scraped back the meat. The white of the bone contrasted against dark blood. Andrew set the curved blade down near the snout and grabbed the butcher knife.

"Here," Andrew placed the knife on the pig’s stomach.

"You want me to?" Neil glanced down at the bone keeping the pig’s head attached to its body.

"Did you think you were just going to watch?" Andrew sawed his finger against the bone. "Right here."

Neil gripped the handle, his glove squeaking. He waited until Andrew moved his finger to raise the blade. He inhaled deeply and on the exhale he brought his arm down. Neil closed his eyes last second. When he opened them he forgotten how to breathe.

A man laid on a clean polished steel table, his waist covered by a thin white sheet. Andrew was gone, which left Neil alone in the white room. The floor and walls were covered with clear plastic tarps. Bright lights shone from above. 

The man’s screams were high pitched and he pulled against black constraints. His skin rubbed raw as he struggled to break free. Hot thick blood soaked into Neil’s face. It was splattered on his clothes. The man’s arm was severed below the elbow, blood pooled on the table and dripped off onto the tarp. Neil’s fingers flexed around a meat cleaver, the handle slick.

Neil dropped the blade on the floor. The man begged Neil to stop. Tears and snot ran down his face. The stench was unbearable.

"Nathaniel."

Neil whipped his head around. But he was alone. There were no doors, no windows. Neil turned back. The sobbing man and bloody mess had disappeared. In its place was a thin long mirror. 

Neil’s reflection was his own, auburn hair and icy blue eyes, though it seemed different. He looked older. Neil stepped forward to get a closer look. Wrinkles creased the skin on his forehead and the corners of his eyes. Neil raised his arm to touch the glass, his reflection mirrored the movement.

"Nathaniel."

The man in the mirror reached out through the glass, his fingers locked around Neil’s throat. Neil gasped and clawed at the arm. Old Neil’s fingers squeezed harder, blocking air flow. Blood rushed to Neil’s head. He struggled to keep consciousness. His bloody hands fell hopelessly to his side.

Neil looked in the mirror. Old Neil’s lips curled back in an evil snarl.

"Nathaniel," old Neil said slowly, tasting it on his tongue.

A blood curdling scream rang in Neil’s ears. A knife dragged along the flesh over his ribs, it burned and cut down to his bellybutton. He tried to look but his neck was held firmly in place. The older Neil pressed the knife deeper into his stomach. Blood soaked Neil’s clothes. The screaming continued until Neil realized they were his own. His throat felt raw and tender. Old Neil laughed, spraying spit on Neil’s face. The knife plunged deep into Neil’s flesh.

"Neil!"

Calloused fingers gripped the back of Neil’s neck. Neil looked up to see Andrew sitting on his knees.

"Breathe," Andrew said, his brows furrowed.

Neil turned his head around frantically, his heart pounded in his chest. He's in the Blood House, on the floor, with Andrew holding his neck. Neil pressed his gloved hand against his stomach. It came back clean.

"Breathe, Neil," Andrew sounded frustrated. The first emotion Neil had ever seen him give.

Neil kept his eyes locked on Andrew’s hazel ones as he slowly came back to reality. His body trembled.

"Can you stand?" Andrew asked. Neil swallowed before nodding.

Andrew released his firm grip on Neil. They stood up. Neil leaned against the table as he didn't trust his wobbly knees.

"Get out," Andrew’s harsh words shocked Neil.

"What?" Neil’s voice cracked.

"I said get out," Andrew bent over to pick up the butchers knife. "You're done."

"No, I’m fine.”

Andrew brought the butcher knife down, it wedged into the wooden table. Neil tried his best not to flinch. Based on Andrew’s unimpressed look, it didn’t go unnoticed.

“Get out,” Andrew said again.

Neil clenched his shaking fists. “I said I’m fine.”

“I don’t care,” Andrew returned to his original position. He pushed the pig on its back and cut along the spine till it laid flat. “If you want someone to baby you, go bitch about it to Dan.”

Neil glared at him, “Fuck you.” Anger and frustration bubbled under his skin.

Andrew hummed, his knife cutting into muscle. “No thanks.”

Before Neil could do something he would regret, like stab Andrew in the neck, he untied his apron furiously. The Slicers watched him silently from their tables. Perhaps they were nervous Andrew would kick them out as well. In front of the door, Neil pulled off his boots and flung the gloves onto the floor, he left the apron in a messy pile. Neil shoved his feet in his shoes.

Outside, the fresh air replaced the smell of blood. A thin layer of sweat moistened his skin. It was hotter than the day before. He looked up. There were still no clouds, just blue sky. Neil wiped his sleeve across his damp forehead. 

Shaken from whatever happened a few minutes ago, he decided to wander around. Andrew didn't tell him where to go. Even if Neil went back and asked, he probably wouldn't get an answer.

The Glade was quiet. The huts were deserted as each Glader worked on their assigned tasks for the day. Neil kept his eyes at his feet while he walked. 

Nathaniel. Who was that? He had to be important in order for Neil to have such a clear hallucination. He tried to remember anything about that name. The only thing his brain gave him was the phantom pains of a blade slicing his skin open. Neil rubbed his hand over the huge scar hidden under blue cotton.

Was it a hallucination, or a memory? Neil doubted it was the latter. He’s just a little squeamish, many people are, it’s a normal thing. It’s fine. Neil’s fine. But that terrifying smile lingered in the back of his mind. He pictured it saying that name again and again. It sent a shiver down his spine.

Neil thought about Andrew, and his fucking irritating blank face. Spending a short amount of time with Andrew was enough for Neil to notice that people were afraid of him. They avoided him as much as they could. The five foot blonde didn’t scare Neil though, he only pissed Neil off.

The urge to run was stronger than before. It made his skin crawl. So Neil ran. He ran past the Deadheads to the South door. Before he could reach the wall Neil turned and sprinted to the North door. 

After a while, he stopped thinking. He focused on controlling his breathing and keeping up the fast pace. Gladers stopped what they were doing to watch the Greenie run back and forth. Neil ignored them as well.

The soles of his shoes slapped against the earth. He panted harshly as sweat flattened his hair. It hurt his ribs and his legs, but he pushed forward. Neil didn’t stop until he collapsed near the Box. He rolled himself onto his back, chest heaving.

“Oh yeah,” Neil recognized the voice as Dan’s. He looked up to see her standing a foot away from his head. She was smiling. “Kevin will want to meet you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, you guys convinced me. I’ll continue this au.  
For all the butchers out there, I apologize on my lack of knowledge of pigs.  
Please excuse any grammar errors I missed. I really am trying my best.  
Thank you so much for the comments/kudos on the first chapter! I was so pleased I had to put another one out. I hope you all like it just as much!!


	3. Nathaniel or Neil

After lunch, Neil was told to help out at the Tree Grove by shucking husks of corn with a young girl named Lucy. She didn't talk much except when she felt the need to scold Neil's technique. Otherwise Neil was thankful for her lack of communication. 

The incident from the Blood House spread like wildfire. His running outburst did him no favors either. Dark shadows slowly crept along the Glade as nighttime approached.

The tall boy was the first to show up, he came from the North door. Kevin, Neil thought, based on Dan's description earlier. Four more followed close behind Kevin. They all looked sweaty and exhausted. Kevin told his group something. The five of them began a light job, circling the Glade.

A few minutes later the doors closed, they groaned and shook the ground. Neil paused his work to watch, still amazed that something so heavy could move. Lucy paid them no attention.

The Runners jogged past Tree Grove, allowing Neil a better look at Kevin. He was easily over six foot. Kevin had green eyes and as he came closer, Neil saw a black number two inked on his left cheekbone.

Neil's stomach dropped. Kevin made eye contact with Neil, he stumbled over his feet and had to stop to keep himself from falling over. The three others parted to jog past Kevin, giving him weird looks.

The two boys kept their eyes on each other but neither moved. Kevin's nervous face gave it away, he knew Neil. And somehow Neil knew Kevin. Neil stood up and dropped the husked corn into his pile. Lucy glared up at Neil. He took one step toward Kevin before he chased after his Runners. Neil watched him leave. 

_Coward,_ Neil thought.

Neil wrecked his brain trying to remember. Kevin's tattoo sparked something, but what exactly? Neil's natural instinct to run away as far as possible was intense. He felt nauseas and hot.

Testing his walking capability, Neil slowly made his way over to the Deadheads. He needed space. Somewhere he could be alone and think.

The small forest was incredibly dense. Tree roots stuck out of the ground like they were purposely trying to trip Neil. He kept walking until he heard a crunch under his shoe. He looked down expecting the worse but it was only a twig.

A few feet in front of him were a row of graves. Each tombstone was made of plywood and rocks lined the perimeter of where the bodies were buried. Names were carved into the wood. Neil counted seven.

The smell of smoke and burning flesh hit him like a brick wall. He fell down onto his knees and cradled his head in both hands. Memories of flames flashed in his mind. He saw water crashing against sand, he carried charred bones in his arms.

It was all too much. Neil choked as the feeling of smoke filled his lungs. Several minutes passed, which felt like hours. Slowly, he blinked tears out of his eyes. Though he hadn't remembered when he started crying. He dug his fingers into the dirt.

Loud rustling made Neil sit up straight. A girl stood about a yard away, her head swayed from side to side. Neil quickly wiped his wet cheeks.

"Sorry," Neil croaked, embarrassed that someone had seen him like that. He pushed himself onto his feet trying to shake off his panic.

The girl looked up so fast Neil swore her neck cracked. He recognized her as one of the Runners, she still had on a backpack. Strands of loose brown hair fell from her ponytail and her eyes were bloodshot. She shifted her weight on each foot. Neil thought back to Kevin tripping, he didn't remember seeing her with them. She was mumbling to herself. Something seemed off.

"Hey," Neil cleared his throat. He wiped his sweaty palms on his shirt. "Are you okay?"

She opened her mouth and a horrifying scream rang in Neil's ears. She broke out into a full sprint, her body twisting unnaturally. Neil barely had time to react. 

She crashed into him and sent them sprawling on the forest floor. Neil snacked his forehead on a sharp rock, blood soaked his right eyebrow. Neil pushed himself back onto his knees, reaching for his pocket.

Before he could open the pocket’s flap the girl pinned him down. He pushed the palms of his hands against her shoulders. Her fingers locked onto Neil's hair and pulled harshly, ripping a few strands from his scalp. Neil strained under the girl's body weight. Her pupils were blown out and her teeth clicked together. Spit sprayed Neil's face.

"Get off me!" Neil yelled. His scream only encouraged her.

He struck a closed fist against her temple. She momentarily loosened her grip. Neil took the opportunity. With the last of his energy he shoved her back. Neil quickly scrambled on his feet. The Runner already getting over the stunned blow.

Neil turned and ran. He didn't look back but the horrid screams told him she was close behind. He burst through the tree line. It was dark, torches lit up the Glade. Everyone was back at the huts getting ready for dinner.

"Help!" Neil screamed. He sprinted towards them.

He was halfway to Homestead when two hands grabbed the back of Neil's shirt. He was yanked backwards. The girl straddled Neil's waist and raked her nails down his face. Neil's eyes watered from the sharp pain.

A metal pipe hit her in the head. Her eye balls rolled back and she slumped forward. The dead weight pinned Neil. He pushed her off, she fell on the ground with a thump. Adrenaline cursed through Neil's veins.

Andrew stood beside him, pipe in one hand and chest heaving. His hazel eyes locked onto Neil's. Andrew dropped the pipe, it clanged against the ground. Neil struggled to stand on his feet. 

Other Gladers were starting to reach them. Neil quickly tucked his weapon away. Andrew gave Neil an unamused look. Matt crouched beside the unconscious girl, he rolled her onto her back.

"Janie?" Matt whispered to her, he pressed the back of his hand on her forehead. "What happened?"

Andrew folded his arms over his chest. "Well?" he raised one eyebrow at Neil.

"What the fuck did you do?"

Neil turned to find who spoke. His searching gaze landed on Seth, who looked well pissed. His bottom lip was split and his jaw bruised. Allison held onto his arm. She whispered something into Seth's ear. It seemed to calm him down. Only a little.

"Neil," Renee was suddenly next to Neil, her tone calm and reassuring.

Neil swallowed. He stuttered to find the right words, "She just attacked me out of no where. I swear."

"Move!" It was Aaron. Everyone parted for him, Nicky right on Aaron's trail. Aaron froze when he saw Janie. "Lift up her shirt."

Matt did as he was told. On Janie's stomach, above her belly button, black and purple skin bruised around a small hole. It oozed a thick black liquid. Dark blue veins spread across her stomach. Even in her sleep she was gasping for air. Her skin glistened with sweat.

Neil gasped, horrified and disgusted. What the fuck was that?

"Nicky, grab her feet," Aaron locked his hands under Janie's arms and heaved her up. Nicky did the same with her ankles.

"Where's Kevin?" Matt looked over the crowd.

"Here," Kevin yelled.

To Neil's right, Kevin walked up to Matt. Neil kept his eyes trained on the tattoo, it chilled him to his core. Matt whispered something to Kevin and they both left to follow Nicky and Aaron into Homestead.

Neil clutched his stomach as his lunch threatened to crawl back up his throat. He leaned forward, blinking rapidly. His heart thumped loudly against his ribs. Janie's rabid face was unable to leave his head. He couldn't tell if there were people still near him or if he was alone. The world spun and blurred together.

"Get it together. They're watching," it was Andrew's voice. Neil closed his eyes. He focused on the body heat beside him, not touching but close enough to sense Andrew's presence. It helped Neil stay grounded to reality. "Come on." 

Calloused fingers wrapped themselves in Neil's sleeve. He let Andrew pull him up.

They walked towards the South door, away from the Gladers and their lingering stares. It took Neil a few moments to breathe, and once he was able Andrew still didn't let go. Not until they were a few feet away from the wall.

"Andrew-" Neil started.

"Shut up."

Andrew dug his hands into the thick foliage, pulling back several vines to reveal a square window. Neil stepped closer with curiosity. Andrew's shoulders tensed at the close proximity. 

The edges of the glass were frosted, it was at least two feet wide and just as thick as the wall. On the other side it was dark.

"What are we looking for?" Neil lowered his voice.

"Watch," Andrew scolded.

Neil did. One minute passed, then two, and four. Neil bit his lip and wondered how Andrew could stay perfectly still for so long while looking at nothing. Then it happened.

A dull light lit up the corridor. It cascaded a flickering spectrum of colors on the boy's faces. Neil didn't dare to move, goosebumps broke out over his skin.

"What is that?" Neil's voice was barely above a whisper.

Andrew didn't answer.

Neil strained his eyes to see through the grime built up on the glass. Something huge was out there, roughly the size of a cow with no distinct shape. It slithered itself down the corridor. The creature jerked and twisted, moving so fast it was hard to see. Neil pressed his hand against the glass.

The creature scaled the opposite wall. It leaped forward, hurling itself at the window. Neil couldn't hold back his yelp. Andrew's hand pressed between Neil's shoulder blades, keeping him firmly in place. Its body hit the glass and bounced back.

"That's a Griever," Andrew said, voice cool and collected.

Neil swallowed the lump in his throat. The Maze was still dark but the blue light allowed Neil to see the creature's glistening skin. Silver spikes protruded from the Griever's back in a random pattern. A long tail curled into the air, it's tip spiked with razor sharp edges like a saw. The legs, or arms, moved like a mechanical spider. Neil couldn't see how many it had.

The Griever was a mix of animal and machine. It seemed to linger near the window, as if fully aware that it was being watched. It threw its body against the window again. This time Neil was expecting it and didn't flinch away. He watched the creature scratch the glass with its tail. It must have gotten bored as it climbed a wall and disappeared somewhere deep within the Maze. Neil could hear faint clicking.

"Is that what got her?" Neil turned to look at Andrew, who was only a few inches away. His face swallowed by darkness.

"Yes," Andrew stared where the Griever scurried off to. "It never happens during the day."

"But it did," Neil said.

"But it did," Andrew repeated. He let go of the vines, they fell back over the window. Neil took a step back.

"Why did you show me?" Neil asked.

Andrew glanced at Neil. "Someone had to," he explained.

Neil was quiet for a moment. "I want to be a Runner."

"No, you don't," Andrew turned to leave.

"Why not?" Neil stepped in front of Andrew to block his path.

"Because there's nothing out there," Andrew spat out. He looked behind Neil and then back at the wall, like he was worried someone was listening.

"You're a Runner," Neil thought out loud.

He slowly pieced together the evidence; Andrew's comments about the Map Room, his speed and quick reflexes.

"Was," Andrew corrected.

"What do you know? Tell me what you saw."

Andrew hooked his fingers in Neil's collar and pulled him down to meet his eye level. Neil clenched his jaw.

"You ask too many questions," Andrew said.

"Then tell me the truth," pride swelled in Neil's chest at Andrew's annoyed glare. It quickly changed back into a blank expression.

"What do I get out of it?" his grip loosened.

Neil couldn't choose which hazel eye to focus on, "I have nothing to give you."

"Oh, I don't believe that for a second," Andrew shoved Neil back. The push was forceful but not enough to knock Neil over. "You panic too much for someone who doesn't remember anything."

Neil carefully weighed the offer he was given. In the grand scheme of things it didn't matter, not really. Still, Andrew showed him a Griever, which is more than anyone else had done in this prison.

"You'll tell the truth?" Neil asked.

Andrew was quick to respond. "Only if I want to. The same rule applies to you."

"Fine."

Andrew nodded. He walked around Neil and headed back to Homestead. Neil had to jog to catch up.

"When?" Neil slowed down to match Andrew's pace.

"Later. I'm hungry."

Neil followed Andrew to the large hut where each meal was served. The Cooks loaded two bowls with some sort of stew and a slice of bread. Neil was grateful Andrew didn't tell him to fuck off when they both sat on the concrete permitter of the Box. Neil kept a safe distance from Andrew. They ate in silence. The stew was okay, not well seasoned but otherwise edible. Neil cherished his bread, he took small bites.

Every few minutes Neil would glance up at Homestead. The second floor's lights were on. He hadn't seen Dan since the accident, they must have brought her inside.

"What will happen to Janie?" Neil set his empty bowl on the ground.

Andrew was already done eating, he was laying back on the metal door. His toes were an inch away from reaching the ground.

"Is that your question?" Andrew asked.

"I'm making conversation."

"This is a terrible conversation."

Neil's leg bounced and he chewed on his bottom lip. The last thing he wanted to do was mess up this opportunity. He wanted to know everything. If Andrew was the only one who could do that, Neil had to tread carefully.

"Stop that," Andrew said. "It's annoying."

"Sorry," Neil muttered, keeping his leg still. He picked at a thread on his pants. He decided to start small, "How do you know Aaron is your brother?"

"We look alike," Andrew deadpanned.

Neil shot him a glare. "Seriously?"

"Yes and no."

"Fuck this," Neil said under his breath, already done with Andrew's sarcasm. He was about to stand when Andrew cleared his throat.

"They sent us up together," Andrew sat up. "I beat the shit out of him when I woke up. I couldn't see anything, I didn't know who he was." He shrugged, "But we do look like each other, and that has to mean something."

Neil imagined Andrew waking up in the pitch black. He must have been terrified, realizing someone else was in there with him. Neil probably would have done the same.

"My turn," Andrew pulled up one leg and faced Neil. "When did you remember your name?"

"What?" Neil was surprised. He didn't know exactly what he expected but it wasn't that.

"Everyone knows their names when they get here. I find it a little odd that it took you so long."

"Oh."

Andrew waited a moment. "This is when you tell me the truth."

Neil sucked in a sharp breath. He surveyed their surroundings. Dinner was over, everyone was back in their huts except for a few who were hanging around outside. The Box was too far away for them to hear their conversation. 

Neil dug two fingers in his back pocket. He pulled out the yellow paper. Andrew stared at it blankly, then took it, making sure their fingers didn't touch.

Andrew took his time unfolding the paper. Neil watched his hazel eyes as he read.

"Did you write this?" Andrew looked up. Neil's face warmed when Andrew caught him staring.

"Uh, I don't know. Maybe?" Neil hadn't thought about who wrote it before.

"You don't know who you are," Andrew folded the note.

It wasn't a question so Neil didn't answer. Instead he took the note back and smoothed the creases with his dirty thumb.

"I want to go another round," Neil said. Andrew pulled a knee up to his chest, waiting silently. "Why did you help me? In the Blood House, I mean."

Andrew swung his leg over the side and pressed both hands against the cold concrete. Neil watched Andrew's jaw muscles clench under pale skin.

"I didn't," Andrew said. He stood and walked away without another word.

Neil waited to bring back their dishes. The Cooks were gone so Neil washed them himself. He didn't know where everything was supposed to go, he left the bowls on the serving table.

The Glade was even creepier with everyone asleep. Neil walked as softly as he could. His toe kicked a rock, it landed next to a sleeping boy in a hammock. Neil froze and waited for him to wake up. Nothing happened.

Matt wasn't in their hut. On Neil's bed he found a blue duffel bag and folded towel. Someone must have brought them for him. After emptying the bag’s contents he discovered two shirts, black and green, both short sleeved. A pair of cargo shorts, boxer briefs and socks. An unlabeled bottle filled with a white thick liquid feel onto the floor. 

Neil picked it up, he opened the cap. It smelled like lavender. Body wash or shampoo? In the smaller side pocket he saw a plastic toothbrush and toothpaste. Neil marveled at the simple toiletries. He stuffed everything back in the bag, including the towel.

With the strap across Neil's chest, he made his way to the restroom which was behind Homestead. It was split into two sections, the words "Boys" and "Girls" etched into the two doors.

Neil pushed open the boy's door. He felt along the wall until he found a switch. Electricity hummed before lights flickered to life.

The floor was made out of polished concrete. To his left were two porcelain urinals and three wooden stalls to hide toilet bowls. On the right, five shower stalls were separated by concert walls. White plastic curtains gave some privacy. Directly in front of Neil were some sinks. He didn't see any mirrors. He had expected the bathroom to be a lot worse. Obviously it wasn't the cleanest and had an odd smell, but it was better than shitting in a bucket.

He chose the shower furthest from the door just in case someone walked in he would have time to dress. With his toes he kicked off his shoes. Neil closed the curtain behind him, leaving his duffel outside the stall. The shower head had some rust and the curtain was a little molded.

Peeling off his clothes, he tried to ignore his torso. He tossed the pile of clothes under the curtain. The steel handle was difficult to turn. Neil yelped and pressed himself against the wall after icy cold water sprayed him in the face.

He waited until the temperature was hot before stepping back under. With a deep sigh Neil closed his eyes, relaxing as the hard pressure beat against his tense back muscles. He tilted his head back to soak his auburn hair. Dirty brown water swirled down the drain.

Neil was exhausted. It felt like he's lived at the Glade for weeks, yet it had only been a day. The thought of having to wake up and do it again tomorrow was dreadful. He already hated everything about it. He hated being told what to do, what to eat, what to wear.

Despite the frustration and anger, it was familiar to him, like he'd always been ordered around. That fight or flight instinct only came from a life on the run. But where was he running, and from who? 

It was agony, trying to remember what happened to him. His scars played a part in that question. Maybe, if Neil tried hard enough, he could piece them together.

He pressed his middle finger in the hole a bullet left behind. Then he traced the largest scar near his naval. Neil noticed thin white scars following along his ginger happy trail, below his hip bones. The longer he felt his stomach and chest, the harder it was to stay calm. Eventually, he made it up to his shoulder. He slid his hand forward, feeling the raised bumps an iron left there.

Nathaniel. That was his name, his real name. His stomach flipped at the sudden realization. He had to brace himself against the wall to keep from falling over.

"Nathaniel," Neil whispered, feeling how it rolled off his tongue. It was even worse to hear himself say it out loud.

That name was laced with a past he couldn't understand. Each syllable brought unimaginable pain and heartache. They were strong enough to break him as he felt everything for the first time. But his memories were lost in a gray fog that refused to lift.

He lowered himself to the ground, knees pulled to his chest and water drummed against his back. All he could do was let these uncontrollable emotions tear him apart. He tasted salt as tears mixed with water. Time didn't exist then, only sorrow and pain. He sunk his teeth in his knee to hold back a scream that would have rubbed his throat raw.

Nathaniel.

Or Neil.

One contained a nightmare. The other a horrible, unknowable future.

He didn't know which one to choose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so sorry I didn’t update sooner! I had a lot of school work this week. But break is coming up so expect frequent updates.  
And this chapter was purely to push Andriel. I’m not ashamed.  
As always, thank you for your comments and kuddos! I love them and they make my day


	4. Haricot Vert

Neil had a terrible night. Matt came back a few hours after Neil's shower and passed out almost instantly. Neil pretended to be asleep.

It was difficult, trying to keep himself sane when he was falling apart. He wanted to give in, to curl in a ball and stay there forever. To let himself feel everything and then eventually be numb. But he couldn't. That's not what the Maze expected of him.

At the first sign of light, Neil quietly tugged on his shorts and shoes. Matt rolled onto his side, still deep asleep. Neil put away his things in the duffel bag. Then refolded everything again. He left the paper note stuffed inside a pair of socks, hoping no one would be able to find it there. 

Before Neil stepped outside he remembered to bring his shiv. The familiarity of its weight pulling down his waist band comforted Neil.

Outside he breathed in the fresh air, taking a few moments to stretch his sore limbs. He ran along side the four walls, which became increasingly more difficult in the Deadheads. Neil made sure to avoid the graves this time by keeping his path closer to the outer edge of the forest.

A large root stuck out from the ground causing Neil to stumble and have to steady himself on a neighboring tree. He bent down to rub his throbbing ankle.

On the ground, right next to his foot, a lizard scurried up the tree, it stopped at Neil's eye level. On closer examination, Neil decided it wasn't a lizard. 

The body was less than ten inches long, made of metal, and twelve long legs kept itself upright on the jagged tree bark. On its torso, the word WICKED was smeared in black ink. It's head slowly leaned backward, hanging by its back legs. On the tip of the head, or whatever end it was, a blinding red light shined on Neil's face like it was scanning him.

Neil took a careful step to the left, the light followed his movement. Clammy hands reached for the mechanical bug. Before he could touch it, the light flickered twice then curled itself upward and ran up the tree. Neil was frozen, staring up at the branches where the bug hid and spied.

Andrew wasn't talking about the Gladers when he said they were watching.

The doors signaled their grand opening with a loud boom that echoed throughout the Glade. Neil finally found his way out of the forest by then. He was close enough to the West Door to see giant metal rods, reaching as far up to the sky, pull out from their corresponding holes on the left wall. Small clouds of dust followed the moving stone. Neil stood there, captivated by the show the Maze put on. Whoever built this place must have been a genius.

Slowly, the long corridor revealed itself, blowing harsh winds as it did. It was still dark as the sun was too low in the sky. Although, Neil still hadn’t seen the actual sun. Maybe it was because of where the Maze was built, like at a certain angle that would purposefully confuse the Gladers.

Neil counted the seconds it took for the door to finish moving. One hundred eighty six, roughly three minutes. He looked at everything, trying to memorize it. Vines reached high up the walls, separated from where the stone moved during the night.

"See anything?"

Neil jumped, pulse immediately racing. Andrew stood behind him, looking just as tired as Neil felt. Strands of blonde hair stuck out randomly and his clothes were disheveled, as if thrown on without a care. Knowing Andrew, that was probably exactly what happened. His forearms, as always, were covered with black bands. Neil wondered if Andrew always kept himself armed.

"Fuck, Andrew," Neil glared at him, hand over his heart. "What are you doing?"

Back at their living corner, Gladers stood in front of the serving hut as Cooks brought over huge pans of food from Homestead.

"I could ask you the same thing," Andrew looked into the Maze, then back at Neil.

"Why do you care?" Neil twitched under Andrew's stone cold gaze.

He waved the question off lazily, "Nicky wants you to eat with us."

Neil was thrown by the invitation. The last time he saw Nicky he was about to beat him with a shovel.

"Are you sure it isn't you who wants me?" Neil smirked. Andrew's face fell even more stoic. "Since you're such a friendly guy, you know."

"So I've been told."

They waited in line together, Andrew in front and Neil behind. The window of opportunity was small but Neil used it to his fullest. 

Neil looked Andrew up and down, taking in his wide build and intimidating stance. He kept his arms crossed over his chest with his feet shoulder width apart. Neil imagined Andrew could take on even the most muscular Glader in a fight. The yellowing bruise on Neil's ribs told him that much.

Breakfast that morning consisted of potatoes, apples, bacon, and water. Matt was the one to greet them inside the hut.

"Morning!" Matt smiled happily, he wore a black apron. He handed both Andrew and Neil a plate and cup. "How'd you sleep Neil? I was going to ask this morning but you were already up."

Neil felt Andrew's stare. "Fine," Neil forced a small smile.

"Great," Matt poured the two of them water from a glass pitcher. "Oh, you'll be working with Renee today. She'll be in Homestead when you're finished." Neil nodded at the new information.

They went down the table. Neil refused the bacon, since he could still picture the pig's severed head. Andrew huffed and stole Neil's two pieces before the Cook could take them back.

Aaron and Nicky sat on the grass in front of the Slammer, where Neil slept his first night. They were in the middle of a heated conversation when Andrew sat down beside Nicky. Neil took his spot next to Aaron, who was peering up at Neil as he sipped his water.

"Good morning, Neil," Nicky smiled, not bothering to look at Andrew. "You look good today." He winked.

"Can't you contain yourself for one minute?" Aaron sighed, shaking his head. Andrew looked up from his plate at Neil for a split second.

"It's just some light hearted flirting," Nicky rolled his eyes.

"It's gross," Aaron disagreed.

"Tell me, Neil," Nicky wasn’t bothered by Aaron's criticism. He leaned forward, elbows on both knees. "Do any of the girls catch your eye here? Or do you swing my way? It would save me the trouble of having to figure it out."

Neil blinked at Nicky's forwardness. How could Nicky care for such things when they were all imprisoned in a giant death puzzle? If he were being honest, Neil hadn't looked at anyone in that way. Most of the time he was trying to judge a person's character, if he could trust them or not. The three of them were staring at Neil like it was the answer to the Maze.

"What's it matter?" Neil asked.

Nicky shrugged, "Curiosity."

"He means he's nosey," Aaron said.

"I don't swing either way," Neil said, tearing off a chunk of bread and popping it in his mouth.

"Bullshit," Nicky said. Andrew glanced at Neil.

"I don't," impatience put an edge to his voice. Maybe it wasn't the whole truth, but it wasn't important enough to figure out.

"What a shame," Nicky sighed, picking at his bread.

"How's Janie?" Neil asked Aaron.

Aaron looked almost relieved to have the subject changed. "Honestly, not good," he said. "The sting looks infected. She's not in the right state of my mind either, keeps talking about Wicked. We'll probably get the Keepers together later today."

"What for?" Neil asked.

"Discuss our options," Aaron answered.

Andrew shook his head, seemingly bored with the conversation, "Janie won't be able to handle it."

An uncomfortable silence fell over the four of them.

Neil was the one to break it, "Handle what?"

"The Changing," Andrew answered, he watched Neil's face for a reaction.

"What?" Neil asked more confused than before.

"Don't worry about it," Nicky quickly said. "Best not to know everything yet."

Andrew made a noise that almost sounded like a laugh.

Aaron glared at his brother, "Not everyone is like you, Andrew. Maybe if you would talk about it then we could figure something out. We could help-"

Neil seemed to only blink once, but it was enough time for Andrew to lunge at Aaron. The two of them fell backward and rolled. Neil stood to avoid flying chunks of potato and apple. 

There was a moment of chaos as fists swung through the air. Andrew rolled over, pinning himself on top of his brother. At some point Andrew managed to slip a knife out of the bands and press the sharp edge against Aaron's neck. His Adam's apple bobbed, scratching against the blade. The Glade fell silent as everyone waited to see how this played out.

"Shh," Andrew tilted his head. Aaron's eyes were wide with fear. "It's okay."

"I'm sorry," Aaron stuttered, breathless. "I won't bring it up-"

"Good, because if you do again...” Andrew didn't have to finish the sentence to get his message across. He flicked the knife upward, nicking Aaron's neck. Blood swelled from the small cut.

Neil looked at Nicky to see if he would interfere. Nicky showed no sign of further involvement, he stood off to the side watching with the other bystanders. Neil gave the brothers another second to knock it off, but he didn't want to wait for things to escalate again.

"Hey," Neil said, "that's enough."

"Shut up," Aaron whispered. "It's fine."

"Hey," Neil reached out his hand to rest it on Andrew's shoulder, but fell short a few inches. Testing Andrew's mental stability probably wasn't the safest move Neil could make at that moment. "They're watching," he repeated the same words Andrew had told him, lowering his voice so only the three of them could hear.

Andrew looked at Neil as if he forgot, "Oh, so true." His eyes darted past Neil to the wall.

Andrew pushed himself off Aaron and ran his fingers though his hair like nothing had happened. His knife vanished before he walked away, headed towards the Blood House. A sea of people parted for him. Nicky was helping Aaron to his feet, who looked shaken but otherwise okay.

Neil had nothing to say, shocked about what he witnessed. Nicky gave him an apologetic smile and led Aaron back to their hut. Everyone continued their breakfast. This seemed to be a regular occurrence. How they all put up with it given their three rules was beyond Neil. If Andrew could get away with physically threatening his own brother, Neil wondered what else he had done.

-

It took a while for Neil to clean up the mess Andrew and Aaron made. When he was done he found Renee waiting at the foyer in Homestead.

She wore a pale gray shirt, short sleeves rolled over her shoulders. Her brown cargo shorts were cut off so they reached mid thigh.

"I thought you weren't going to show up," Renee laughed.

"Um," Neil started, "sorry. Andrew and Aaron got in a fight."

Renee's eyes narrowed, suddenly serious, "Is Andrew okay?"

"Yeah. I mean, I think so?" It was hard to tell what Andrew felt, or if he was able to feel at all.

Neil could see the wheels turning in Renee's head as she thought.

"Come on," she pushed open the sheet, "we're already behind schedule."

Renee had Neil work on the animal pens. A part of the fence broke when a cow accidentally ran into it the other day. She showed him where they kept their tools, how to distract the animals from bothering them, and how to correctly hammer a nail. Renee was skilled at her job, she easily answered all of Neil's questions without looking up from her work.

A few hours passed, sweat soaked Neil's hair and shirt. They were taking a water break, sitting on the ground across from each other. Renee watched a calf drink from its mother's utters

"How long have you been here?" Neil asked, the silence started to eat at him.

"Less than a year, maybe," she smiled softly. Her relaxed body language gave Neil the okay to ask more questions.

Neil nodded. "So, you're one of Andrew's friends?"

Renee laughed and wiped her dirty forehead with the back of her hand. "You could say that, I guess. We're more like sparring partners."

"You fight each other? Why?"

"I'm not entirely sure," she shrugged. "He asked me one day and I didn't want to say no. It's been difficult for him ever since..." Renee trailed off.

"Since?" Neil pressed.

"Andrew went through the Changing," her face fell solemn, she dragged the hammer in the dirt. She must have noticed Neil's confusion since she continued, "I don't know the details, but Grievers are bad news. They make you go through something terrible, and after ... you're different."

"He was stung," Neil stated. Renee nodded. That explained why Andrew was no longer a Runner. "But, what does that mean? Different how?"

Renee's response was cut off by a ringing alarm that sounded from all directions. Neil clamped his hands over his ears, heart racing as he looked around to find the source. When his focus returned to Renee, he lowered his arms.

"Huh," she said. She stood up and scanned over the Glade, more confused than scared.

Neil felt the tension in his shoulders fade knowing the Keeper wasn't freaking out. Slicers stepped out of the Blood House as the alarm continued to boom. Andrew was the last to come out not in uniform. One kid turned to Renee, a tall boy with blood splattered on his apron.

"What's going on?" he yelled over the alarm.

"No idea,” she shrugged. A moment passed, “Oh shit, the Box!" Renee looked at Neil, surprised.

The Box? Neil didn’t had time to process before Renee was walking at a fast pace. The Slicers and Neil followed. Gladers were also headed towards the center of the Glade, talking amongst themselves. Andrew found his way beside Neil.

"What's happening?" Neil asked Andrew without directly facing him, momentarily forgetting the unnerving fight he witnessed earlier. He wanted to keep his fear hidden, try to assure himself that everything would be okay.

As they got closer, dozens of people were already surrounding the small courtyard. Renee pushed forward, most likely trying to find Dan or Matt. Neil stayed in the back with Andrew where he could breathe easier.

"Means they're sending a Newbie up," Andrew finally said.

"So?"

"So,” he mocked, “there's never been two Newbies in a month. Or in the same week."

Neil swallowed nervously. This couldn't be a coincidence.

"Maybe they're switching you out," Andrew crossed his arms and tilted his head to the side as he watched more people join the mob.

"That's not funny," Neil glared.

"I thought it was," he said in the most monotone voice.

It took a full two minutes for the alarm to stop. Amongst the unfamiliar faces, Neil saw everyone he already knew including Lucy. She stood on the metal doors, tapping her foot impatiently.

The sight of her triggered something in Neil's mind. "Has anyone ever-"

"Yes," Andrew said.

"Yes?"

"The Box doesn't go down with someone in it."

"What about-"

"Done it," Andrew interrupted again.

Neil pushed down his irritation. "Done what?"

"Going down after the Box is gone. Some kid was cut in half."

Neil studied Andrew's face, searching for a crack or sign of sarcasm. "You're joking."

"I don't joke. You can meet him if you want to, he's waiting for you in the woods."

Neil looked over at the Deadheads and imagined the graves. A shiver went down his spine.

“Aaron wasn’t lying,” Neil said.

Andrew didn’t acknowledge the mention of his brother. “Come on, let's meet the new Greenbean.”

Andrew did a remarkable job pushing people out of their way. Neil gave each person a small smile as a form of saying, "Sorry, I cant control the blonde's behavior."

A muffled boom sounded the elevator’s arrival. Lucy jumped off the doors as Matt and Dan stood opposite of each other. They both pulled at a handle, yanking the doors apart. Neil felt bad for the Greenie and the fear they must be experiencing.

Andrew leaned over the concrete barrier, signaling everyone else to do the same. The Box was empty of supplies. In the middle of the floor, a young man laid on his side. He had dark short hair and fair skin. One arm hid his face and the other tucked under his body.

"Two Newbies in one week," Dan mumbled, her eyes searching until they landed on Neil. "What do you know about this?" She didn’t sound mad, but it scared Neil anyway.

Neil looked at her, then to the man, "What? I don't know anything!" His stomach flipped and he clenched his fists at his side.

Matt dropped down into the Box. People behind Neil pushed up against him to get a better look. They shouted at Dan.

"What's down there?"

"I can't see!"

"Get out of the way!"

Neil kept his eyes glued to Matt, he bent down next to the man. It was too loud now to hear what he was saying. Matt lightly tapped the Greenie’s arm. When that didn't get a reaction, Matt rolled him over on his back. The man's arm slumped onto the floor. Neil's breath hitched. 

On his face he had a number three tattooed on his skin. In the same exact place as Kevin's, in the same handwriting, in the same color.

The initial shock stunned everyone, including Andrew. Just as quick it was over. There was panic, people forced themselves forward to get a better look. Concrete dug into Neil's waist.

"Quiet!" Dan screamed. "Shut up, you shanks!"

Her unwavering authority settled the mob into a low mutter. Neil was trying not to breathe too harshly as he was pressed tightly against other bodies. Calloused fingers gripped the nape of his neck. 

Neil turned his head to find Andrew was the one doing so, Neil's shoulder dug into Andrew's chest. Andrew's entire body was stiff, he looked like he was about to stab everyone around them. But his hand on Neil told him that at least he would be safe from Andrew's rampage.

Dan told a few boys to drop one end of a thick rope into the Box. A strong girl lowered the ladder by herself. Matt tied the rope under the young man's arms and gave a thumbs up. They struggled to pull out the tall man. Seth and Nicky were two of the four helping.

They dragged the body over the metal door and onto the concrete ground. Immediately people swarmed, circling around the unconscious man. Neil stayed where he was with Andrew, finally able to catch his breathe. Andrew dropped his hand to his side and stepped away.

"Neil!" It was Matt yelling. "Get him over here!"

With one last look at Andrew, he reluctantly made his way over. Dozens of eyes followed him. He noticed Seth sneering at him. He stopped once he was close enough to practically touch the man. Matt and Dan stood near his head, Aaron was on his knees checking his pulse. The tattoo made Neil nauseas.

"Do you know him?" Dan asked.

Neil blinked in shock. Why were they asking him? They should be asking Kevin, who was still in the Maze and wouldn't be back for hours.

"No," Neil said.

She sighed and slapped her palm on her forehead, "I mean, do you recognize him?"

Neil looked back down at his face. A panic attack threatened to wreck him. "I don't," Neil said after a while. "I swear,” he felt the need to add that.

"Neil, are you telling the-"

Dan didn't have the chance to finish. The man shot upright, he gasped for air and opened his eyes. Dan stumbled back into Matt's arms. The ones closest jumped back. Neil's body locked in fear, his heart hammered against his chest.

Long black eyelashes fluttered over gray eyes. The man breathed heavily as he looked from face to face. His cracked lips mumbled something incoherent. He made eye contact with Neil. With a deep breathe, he spoke one haunting sentence.

"Everything is going to change."

The meaning wasn't nearly as shocking as the language he spoke in. It wasn't English. Although Neil still understood it just as clearly. The man had a thick accent. Neil’s memory was hazy as he couldn’t place where it was from. A light bulb went off in Neil's head. French. He spoke French.

Gladers spoke all at once, Neil could only catch a little at a time.

“What did he say?”

“What the fuck was that?”

The two languages clashing together was chilling. Had there always been more languages? How could he have forgotten?

The man's eyes rolled in the back of his head. He fell back, right arm sticking straight into the air as he did. Crumpled in his first was a wad of paper. Dan quickly hurried over. She pried off his long, scarred and misshapen fingers.

On the concrete she smoothed out the paper. Neil's feet were moving without him fully realizing. He stood behind her and looked over her shoulder. 

In black thick writing he read:

He's the last one. Ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the plot thickens...
> 
> Who’s excited for the next chapter? Me!
> 
> Is it bad I’m already thinking about the next two books in the Maze Runner series..? I have to remind myself I’m not even close to finishing the first. I’m just too amped up for this au. 
> 
> Leave a comment if you liked it (or hated it, I’m all for constructive criticism). I love reading them. Thank you for your kudos!!


	5. An Apology

Neil still hadn't moved. The Glade was deathly quiet. Somewhere in the distance a cow mooed. Even when a girl pushed Neil out of her way, he couldn't snap out of it. 

The handwriting on this note was different than Neil's. Neil’s was hidden in his pants, not on full display like this. Whoever sent Neil here, he didn't want them finding his note. But why? What was the point? They must have seen it by now. Perhaps that was the reason for this Newbie being the last. 

That didn't explain the tattoo though. Neil wondered where number one was, and if there were a fourth person. All Neil knew was that number two was with them.

People started voicing their concerns and opinions. Neil slipped out of the crowd, a loud ringing rang in his ears that muffled the noise around him. It was hard to tell if he was breathing, because he simply didn't know if he remembered how. Neil had to get away, had to run before he cracked.

He ran for the Dead Heads, not thinking how suspicious it must look. He stumbled over his feet many times before his legs finally gave out. Neil leaned forward on his knees until his head pressed against the dirt. 

Glimpses of his past flashed in his mind like a broken projector. He saw himself running in the dark, a woman ran behind him. She yelled at him not to look back. Neil heard a gun shot and his shoulder bucked forward. The momentum knocked him down onto wet asphalt. His hands were scraped and bloodied from trying to break the fall. Rain pelted against his back. 

"Get up, Abram!" the same woman yelled at him, pulling Neil up by the collar. She spoke in French. 

Hot blood gushed down his back and chest. The bullet must have passed through cleanly. It tore muscle and skin. Pain quickly came after the initial shock. Neil’s shoulder felt like someone punched a white hot ice pick through it and held it there. The woman dragged him with her, chewed fingernails dug into Neil's wrist. An intense fiery pain shot down his arm and across his chest. He momentarily lost his balance. 

She screamed at Neil in a fury of English and French. Neil couldn't understand, she spoke too fast. Her hand smacked Neil across his face. His head jerked to the side. It stung but it worked. Neil had to keep going, because if they didn't they would both die. 

There was so much pain Neil forgot where he was. He forgot who he was. With his fingers weaved through his hair, he screamed so hard his vocal cords rubbed raw. His nails dug into his scalp and he begged for it to stop. 

He saw more. They were bright and startling memories. Neil couldn't focus on one long enough to make sense of them. The bullet wound continued to throb. Same as the night before his only choice was to wait it out.

A hand grabbed his injured shoulder. Lost between the present and past, Neil cringed away and quickly armed himself. He swung the shiv low, angled for their stomach. They blocked his attack by grabbing Neil's wrist. Neil expected the naive move. He twisted his hand and with a short yank, the sharp edge slashed through black fabric and skin. They let go immediately to cradle the bleeding cut. 

Neil didn't dare stop. If this is how he would die he would go down fighting. He forced himself to stand and pressed the tip of his shiv below their jaw where an artery pulsed rapidly.

"Neil."

Neil thought he heard the woman's voice at first. It was muffled though, like they were being suffocated by a pillow. His name made Neil hesitate. He blinked once, then twice.

It might have took seconds or hours until Neil understood what was happening. Andrew kept perfectly still under Neil's shiv. After realizing Neil was one step away from seriously injuring Andrew, he dropped the shiv. It bounced off Andrew's chest and onto the ground. Neil took a step back. 

"I'm sorry," Neil gasped. He pressed his shaking hand against his shoulder, checking for blood. There was none. Only a scar that made the memory more real. 

"Sit down," Andrew said. 

When Neil refused to, Andrew wedged his thumb above Neil's clavicle. He pressed down hard against the sensitive pressure point. Neil hissed in pain, ultimately failing to keep his body still. He let himself be forced onto his knees. Andrew picked up the forgotten shiv then sat on a large rock in front of Neil. He held it out for Neil to grab. Neil gingerly took it. 

"You need something better," Andrew flicked his hand at Neil's pocketed weapon. 

"It works," Neil muttered. With his sleeve he wiped his upper lip and under his eyes. 

It was humiliating to Neil, having Andrew find him like this again. Still, Neil wished he could be more like Andrew, cold and practically unbreakable. Every little thing seemed to trigger something in Neil. Already it was exhausting. Yet at the same time it was what he wanted. To know and to understand why he was in the Maze. Something was holding them back though, keeping Neil from seeing everything. 

Andrew was busy trying to rub blood off his torn arm band with the bottom of his shirt. His stomach was exposed by a few inches. Andrew wasn't as toned as Neil would have guessed. A thin layer of fat covered his abs, making him softer but equally as intimidating. Neil's eyes traced up Andrew's arm to his shoulder. 

Andrew preferred to wear black tight clothing. But on that day, he had on a loose white shirt. Working as a Slicer it must be hard to keep clothes so clean. It reminded Neil of the girls clothing. Though Andrew wore it with a confidence that only complimented his questionable personality. His wide shoulders and thick biceps were perfect for hauling dead pigs. In the contrasting shirt and bands, Andrew's skin looked tanner than usual. The light color provided Andrew a bit of warmth that would otherwise be unnoticeable. 

"I'll find you something you can use," Andrew said, throwing off Neil's inner monologue. 

The kind gesture messed with Neil's head. It wasn't like Andrew to offer such things. 

"I'm fine," Neil reached behind his shoulder. 

Another smaller scar from where the bullet entered puckered against thin fabric. Suddenly self conscious that his injuries could possibly be seen, Neil wrapped both arms around his torso to try to cover up as much surface area as possible. Andrew noticed of course. His stare weighed Neil down. But Neil refused to tilt his head up. 

"Aren't you supposed to be working?" Neil asked after a long deafening silence. 

Andrew hadn't moved an inch, "I deserve a day off."

"Everyone does their part," Neil quoted Renee. "No slackers."

"I've done my part."

Neil wanted to shake Andrew by his shoulders and ask what he meant.

"I haven't," Neil said instead.

"True."

Neil shut his eyes. His clammy moist skin reminded him of rain. That woman called Neil Abram. Why did he have so many names? This one was easier to stomach than Nathaniel. Both of his temples throbbed as he thought about it. Neil had to blink and focus on his shoes just to refrain from slipping away again.

"So," Andrew said, "what did the Newbie say to you?"

Neil hesitated. Don't trust them, he reminded himself. "I don't know."

"I'd rather you not answer instead of lie to me," Andrew said. 

Neil couldn't decipher the tone of Andrew's voice. Frankly, he didn't have the energy to figure it out. He took an unsteady breath, "Okay." 

Andrew gave Neil a moment to decide if he would answer. 

"Get up," Andrew stood, "Matt's having lunch early."

It wasn't exactly an invitation, but Neil did as he said anyway. Once Neil was on his feet, he ran his hand along his arm. Nerves pricked the back of his neck. 

"Do you think they'll do something to me?" Neil asked Andrew. 

"Who?"

"Dan."

Andrew led the way, expertly weaving through trees and stopping every now and then to wait for Neil. 

"No," Andrew said. "Not when I'm with you."

"Why?" Neil asked, then revised his question, "Why are you being nice to me? I thought you didn’t have friends."

Andrew turned and hooked his finger in Neil's collar. "We're not friends."

Neil's chest felt tight. He fought back the urge to push Andrew away. Neil looked down briefly. If Andrew pulled his collar down another inch Neil's maimed skin would be exposed. 

"Then what are we?" Neil furrowed his brow. Andrew's constant presence unnerved Neil. If he didn't want to be friends, then what was he getting out of it?

"Nothing," Andrew said. 

"I don't believe that."

"Ask me if I care."

Neil didn't ask. He knew the only thing Andrew could care for was Matt's cooking. 

His suspicions were correct because Andrew's plate was packed during lunch. When someone would so much as glance at them walking together, Andrew stared them down until they were forced to look away. Neil tried hard not to react. 

They sat at the Box, which they somehow formed a silent agreement to eat there together. Neil peered through the closed metal doors. He couldn’t see the bottom of the elevator shaft. 

"The last one," Neil thought out loud. 

"Hmph," Andrew bit into a thick ham sandwich.

"What does that mean?" Neil already knew. Everything is going to change. 

Andrew sipped his water, twisting his torso to look over the locked doors. He didn’t say anything. That only made Neil want to fill the silence. 

"Andrew," Neil said slowly, "I think things are-"

Movement behind Andrew caught Neil's attention. On the South wall to the left of the door, maybe four or five stories high, something small hung onto the vines. Neil was running before he could tell Andrew. 

The chance it was a Griever was slim. But the scary thought still crossed his mind. As Neil got closer, he noticed it was a girl. More specifically, it was Janie. And she was climbing. Neil picked up his pace. He was at the wall in no time. A breeze picked up Janie’s hair. 

Neil cupped his hands around his mouth, “Hey!” he yelled as loud as he could with his sore throat. 

Janie looked down, her hair covered her face, “Go away!” 

Andrew came to a stop next to Neil, he also stared up at Janie. Neil swept his hand across the Glade angrily. 

“Where the fuck is Aaron?” Neil asked Andrew. 

Andrew didn’t look away, “The Newbie, probably.”

Neil wedged one foot in the vines and pulled himself up with both hands. Andrew grabbed the back of Neil’s shirt. 

“What the hell are you doing?” Andrew hissed.

“I’ll talk to her,” Neil pushed up with his other foot. Andrew let go. “Go get Aaron.”

Neil was built to be a Runner, not a climber. His arms shook from holding him self up. The higher he got, the less vines there were to climb on. He took his time and tested each hold before continuing. Janie was to his right, her hips at Neil’s head. Close enough, Neil thought. 

Sweat dripped from his brow. The wind was stronger up here, it nipped at his clothes and hair. He looked down. Aaron and Nicky argued while Andrew pointed up at Neil. Andrew grabbed Aaron by the shirt and pushed him towards the wall. Other Gladers crowded around. They all watched, dumbfounded. 

Neil’s mouth was dry. He returned his attention to Janie. She had her forehead pressed against the stone. In her left hand she held a sharp knife, similar to the ones in the Blood House. 

“Janie,” Neil spoke softly as to not spook her. He climbed a few feet higher. 

His movement made Janie turn her head. She looked better than the other day. Her eyes were still bloodshot and tears ran down her cheeks. Neil noted how her neck had well defined scratches, like she clawed at her own throat. 

“Nathaniel,” her lip quivered, “I’m so sorry.”

Neil’s foot slipped hearing that name. His legs dangled. People below them yelled and gasped. Neil held onto the vines and desperately tried to find somewhere sturdy. His heart hammered against his ribs. 

Once he was sure he wouldn’t fall, he panted, “You remember me?”

Janie blinked, “I remember them saying they caught Nathaniel.” She tightened her grip on the knife. Her eyes glazed over. “We could hear you screaming.”

Neil didn’t know what she was talking about. It made him dizzy.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Neil said. “Can you climb down? We can talk about this-“

“No,” Janie shook her head furiously. “You don’t get it. Kevin helped him.” She was talking quicker now. Her face wide and alert. “He put us here. He put you here. Riko-“

Her words choked in her throat. She plunged the knife in her chest. Neil wasn’t quick enough to stop her. Janie’s face was frozen in shock. Her hand shook as she let go of the handle. 

“Help me,” Janie whispered. 

Neil reached for her but it was too late. Her fingers slipped from the vines and she fell backward. The fall was quick. Her head hit the ground first. Neil heard her skull and neck crack. Janie’s body bounced once before resting in an unnatural position. Dark blood slowly pooled around her. The knife pointed directly at Neil. 

People screamed, horrified. Even Aaron was at a lost of what to do. Andrew was the only one who didn’t react, he was looking at Neil with both arms over his chest. 

Neil’s body trembled. He didn’t trust himself to move. He counted to one hundred in both languages. Eventually Neil’s arms and legs shook so violently he knew he had to get down before he ended up like Janie. 

It was agonizing climbing down. He wanted to give up half way. Neil felt the hard ground under his feet and immediately collapsed. 

“Neil?”

Neil felt a hand press against his forehead. He cracked open his eyes. The twins hovered over him. Neil’s vision was blurry, he couldn’t tell who was who. He was only seconds away from blacking out. 

Neil struggled to speak. He was worried that he would forget what Janie said. 

“She,” Neil gasped for air. He tried again, “She-“

“Shh,” one of them said. “Andrew, bring him to Homestead.”

One arm hooked under Neil’s knees and another wedged underneath his back. Andrew lifted him up easily. Neil let his limbs dangle helplessly. His head rolled back and the world went dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so SO sorry that I took forever to update. Writers block is a bitch.
> 
> This chapter is a bit shorter than the rest but I’ll make up for it in the next one.
> 
> Obviously I’m changing some parts of the Maze Runner book. I hope none of you are disappointed. 
> 
> Let me know if I should add a trigger for this chapter. I think it’s covered in the tags but I’m not sure?
> 
> Thank you for your continuing support on this AU! Leave comments, I love reading them!!


	6. A Game

Neil and Janie stood on top of the South wall. The Maze went on as far as the eye could see, its corridors changed constantly. Hundreds of feet below them Gladers silently watched. Even this high he couldn't find the sun amongst the bright blue sky.

Janie took a step closer to the edge, she stared down at them. Neil did the same. Andrew stood out the most as he was dressed in black from head to toe.

"Nathaniel," Janie said. Neil turned to her. "I'm so sorry."

Neil's heart raced. He stumbled and kicked a pebble off the ledge. "You remember me?" he asked.

"We could hear your screams," tears swelled in her eyes. "I'm sorry."

"Hey, it's okay," Neil said gently. The wind picked up. He spread his arms out to balance himself. "Can you climb down?"

"You don't get it," Janie blinked. "Kevin helped him. Riko-"

Warm blood splattered Neil's clothes. A knife stuck out from Janie's chest. Kevin towered behind her with an evil smirk. Her blood slowly soaked through her shirt. Kevin yanked the knife out, Janie gasped. Her mouth fell open and her eyes glazed over.

"Help me," she whispered.

Neil launched himself forward. She fell to the side just as Neil landed. He heard their screams before a loud snap of bone. Neil gripped the edge and inched his way over. On the ground Janie's body laid in a large pool of dark, thick blood.

The wall shook violently. Neil braced himself on his knees. The door's screeched and ground against stone as they closed. Her blood continued to pour from her cracked skull until it spread across the Glade.

Neil knew he was dreaming. It was like he was trapped in his own body. He screamed in his mind to wake up.

It's not real, he thought. It's not real.

Neil jerked backward, momentarily knocking the wind out of him. He expected to see Kevin standing over him but it was the Newbie. Black ink from his tattoo smeared across his cheek.

"Everything is going to change," he yelled in French. The doors boomed shut. "Everything is going to change!"

He dragged Neil by his shirt to the other side of the wall. Neil kicked and screamed. It did nothing. The Newbie repeated those four words over and over again until it no longer sounded real. He held Neil over the edge. A strong gust of wind hit Neil's back like a brick.

Neil risked looking below him. Dozens of Grievers scratched their metal legs against the wall. Their tails reached up for Neil like he was a shiny new toy. Neil raked his nails down number three's forearms as hard as he could, breaking through skin.

"Let me go!" Neil screamed.

He tried to reach three's throat but Neil's arms were too short. Bloodied nails clawed any thing he came in contact with.

"Everything is going to change," he said one last time. His eyes rolled back and he let go.

Neil plummeted to the awaiting Grievers.

-

Neil sat up startled and panting. He didn't recognize where he was. At some point his shiv found its way in his hand. The room was dark and musty. He blinked the sleep out of his eyes.

Dull lights flickered from the ceiling. Neil connected the old wallpaper with Homestead. He sat in a bed that was much more comfortable than his cot. The mattress felt like it was filled with feathers, not straw. A thick quilt covered his legs and waist.

To his right, an identical bed was occupied. The Newbie had a blanket pulled up to his chin. His pale skin glistened with sweat, small breaths escaped his lips. He looked in pain. The whites of his eyes peeked through long lashes.

Anxiety twisted Neil's stomach. This time he didn't fight his instinct to run. He found his shoes under the bed and left without another thought. The stairs creaked under his feet but he kept going. He wanted to be as far away from the Newbie as possible. As each second passed Neil's dream became more of a blur. It didn't make that raw fear go away. Janie's broken body was a permanent picture in Neil's mind.

Stars twinkled in the black sky. Neil couldn't place what time it was. For all he knew it could be the middle of the night or right before dawn.

He ran along the East wall to avoid waking any Gladers. Restlessness pushed himself to run faster. His thoughts tamed themselves, and for a while he forgot about the Maze. He forgot about Grievers. He forgot about tattoos. He forgot about the way Andrew always seemed to just be there. All of those concerns that slowly ate him away disappeared.

Neil's lungs burned. He desperately reached out for that familiar feeling. It felt like waking up. Like he was finally in control. Those types of luxuries are things Neil could never have. At least not in the Glade. Here he was stuck. He refused to give up like everyone else has. Even Andrew lost hope. Neil could tell from the way he answered his questions.

He slowed his pace to a light jog, trying his best to control his breathing. One by one stars lost their shine as blue mixed with black signaling the start of another day. Neil stopped in front of the East door. He wiped the sweat collecting above his lip.

Standing in front of the Box Kevin watched. Their gazes met. He walked over to Neil with a serious expression. Neil was surprised he found the courage to do so. Kevin looked Neil up and down like he was analyzing him.

"How long have you been running?" Kevin asked.

"A while," Neil responded confidently. Kevin glared. Neil took his chance, "You have a spot open. I want to take it."

Neil only realized after that he might have been too harsh following Janie's death. But it didn't phase Kevin, a great example of his character.

"You haven't convinced me," Kevin said.

"Tell me how."

"If I have to tell you, you never will."

Neil stared at him unimpressed, "There are four Runners left. No one will join, not after what happened yesterday. You want me. You wouldn't be talking to me if you didn't."

Kevin's glare darkened, "I want to win."

"This isn't a game."

"This is exactly a game," he hissed. "If you cant play, there's no point of you being alive."

Kevin caught Neil's hesitation. Their conversation ended with Kevin turning his back to Neil. He stalked off to his awaiting Runners in front of Homestead. The doors would open soon.

Anger simmered in Neil's chest. Fuck Kevin for thinking he wasn't good enough. Neil wanted to be a Runner more than anything else. No, not wanted. Needed. Without this, how was any thing worth it? How could he go about this life for years to come and not go crazy? Kevin underestimated Neil, and that pissed him off more than anything else.

He pushed the thought away for the time being. Wanting to shower before everyone was awake, he returned to his shared hut. Matt already left to prepare breakfast. He must get up the same time as the Runners. Neil pulled out his duffel bag from under his bed. He unzipped it, pushed the flap out of his way and froze.

To anyone else, they wouldn't have noticed something wrong. His clothes were still there, even his toiletries. But Neil was paranoid. When he packed his things yesterday he made sure to roll the left sleeves of his shirts just in case this sort of thing would happen. Everything was returned in the same way, except for the sleeves.

Neil dug around frantically searching for the pair of socks. Once his fingers touched the soft fabric he yanked them apart. The note didn't fall out. Neil pushed his hand in each sock. Empty. It was gone. Dripping with denial, he searched everywhere: his pillow, under the blanket, behind the chair, through Matt's things. He felt every inch of that hut and came up empty handed.

Hot anger boiled from Neil's chest to the rest of his body. It clouded his mind. The only person Neil shown the note to was Andrew. How stupid he was to think he could trust him.

Neil memorized the whole layout of the Glade his first day. That included where Andrew slept since Neil watched him leave one time after dinner. Fuming, Neil marched past sleeping Gladers. Andrew's hut was slightly bigger and identical to Matt and Neil's. The "door" was just a hole in the middle of one wall so Neil let himself in and stood by the entrance.

There were three cots inside. Andrew slept in the one across from the door. He wore a gray tank top and his black bands, a blanket was pushed down to his knees. Black boxer briefs clung tightly to him. Andrew hung one arm off the edge and the other draped over his stomach. To the right was Nicky's area, who slept shirtless and on his stomach. His hair was matted on one side. And on Neil's left he assumed the empty cot was Aaron's. Shoes were thrown across the floor and clothes were scattered. It wasn't necessarily messy just cluttered.

"Neil?" Nicky's voice was husky. He pushed himself onto his elbows and squinted, confusion written clearly in his eyebrows.

Neil ignored him and made his way over to Andrew.

"Wait," Nicky whispered, "don't wake him-"

Neil smacked Andrew's shoulder with the back of his hand. Without opening his eyes, Andrew swung his fist. Boney knuckles landed on Neil's stomach. Dangerously close to his groin. Neil gasped and doubled over.

"Shit!" Nicky rushed over to Neil's aid. "Are you okay?"

Neil gritted his teeth. "I'm fine," he sucked in a deep breath before standing straight.

There definitely would be a tender bruise later. Andrew pushed himself out of bed. He grabbed a pair of pants from the floor and tugged them on. Neil watched, his ears hot. If Andrew wouldn't confess then Neil would make him.

"Where is it?" Neil asked.

"Where is what?" Andrew said.

Neil closed the space between him and Andrew. They were mere inches apart.

"You know what," Neil spat.

Andrew glanced at Nicky then back to Neil. "I don't."

He studied Andrew's reaction to his confrontation, no sign of tension or nervous tick. Neil sighed and stepped back, content for now that Andrew didn't steal it.

"My note, it's gone."

"Of course it is," Andrew muttered under his breath. He crossed his arms.

"Wait," Nicky raised his hand to grab their attention. "What note?"

"Dan wrote me a list of every Keeper," the small lie came easily to him, "so I wouldn't be confused. I can't find it."

"Oh," Nicky dragged out the o. "Then it's not a big deal? I can write you another one if you want."

"Thank you."

Underneath their feet the floor rumbled. The doors were opening.

"Nicky, leave," Andrew said.

"What, now?" Nicky placed one hand on his hip in a sort of protest.

"Yes, now."

Nicky rolled his eyes but still grabbed his shoes and a dirty shirt. Before he stepped outside he turned around and smiled at Neil.

"Hey, eat breakfast with me? Aaron ditched me," Nicky said.

"Uh, sure," Neil blinked.

"Great. Don't hurt him again, Andrew," Nicky walked away.

That left the two of them alone. Neil kept his head low and eyes trained on the floor. He waited for Andrew to speak first.

"How are you feeling?" Andrew asked.

Neil stumbled to answer the odd question. "Fine."

"You fainted."

"I was tired," Neil shrugged.

"Did you kill her?"

Neil's head snapped up, "No."

"There was a knife in her chest," he wasn't convinced.

"She did it herself."

"Did she?"

"What are you saying? You think I would stab someone?"

Andrew raised two fingers near Neil's neck and pressed against his artery. Neil reached for Andrew's wrist. Andrew was quicker, his other hand yanked Neil's back.

"I think you can," Andrew referred to their time in the Dead Heads.

"That's different."

"Doesn't matter," his thumb wrapped around until he was squeezing Neil's throat. "People are saying you did."

Neil's breath hitched at Andrew's movement. It wasn't from fear though. He didn't understand why else his heartbeat sped up. "Do you believe them?"

Andrew dismissed his question. "They're going to be looking for any reason to banish you now."

Neil was getting unbearably hot this close to Andrew. He stepped away, Andrew let his fingers slide off Neil's neck. He didn't know what a banishment in the Glade meant. And he didn't want to find out.

"What do I do?" Neil mentally slapped himself for handing his trust back to Andrew so soon.

"Try not to have a panic attack today."

Andrew's advice was easier said than done. Everyone stared at Neil. Their glares were like needles pricking the back of his head. Neil wanted to hide away. He felt a little bad ignoring Matt's friendly good morning in the serving hut. Hopefully he would understand. Nicky waited for him in the same area Andrew and Aaron fought.

Nicky held out a white piece of paper as Neil sat down. He read the list of names in their order: Dan, Matt, Aaron, Andrew, Allison, Renee, Kevin, and Seth. A line connected Seth's name to Bagger. Neil chewed on his lip. Of course he had to be a Keeper. Nicky's hand writing was neat, he looped each letter together in a weird form of cursive.

"Thank you," Neil folded the paper into fourths and tucked it in his pocket. "What are Baggers? Dan forgot to mention it."

Nicky picked at a piece of bread. "If anyone dies, they're the ones who bury them." His words hung in the air. "They act as police most of the time."

Police officers. Another thing Neil somehow forgot. He felt himself flinch at the mention of them.

"Oh," Neil said.

"Anyway," Nicky's smile was back, "who are you with today?"

Neil spoke between bites, "Not sure. Forgot to ask."

"Too bad you cant be with Andrew."

He stopped mid sip of his water, "What?"

"You've been around each other a lot," he grinned. "I think you've noticed he's hard to get along with. I'm just curious."

"Are you always this curious?"

Nicky shrugged and leaned back on his hands. "I guess so." He taped his finger.

Neil jumped as Aaron dropped down to the ground. Aaron looked exhausted, his eyes were sunken in and red. He didn't have any food with him.

"Where the fuck did you run off to?" Aaron glared at Neil. "News flash, Greenie, only Med-Jacks tell you when to leave the infirmary."

"You're the only Med-Jack," Nicky pointed out.

"Exactly, which means this shank needs to listen to me."

"I felt better," Neil said.

Aaron dramatically slid his hands down his face, "This place is a fucking nightmare."

"It has its perks," Nicky tilted his head in Neil's direction.

"Can you take the creepy down a level?" Aaron asked.

"What?" Nicky looked hurt. "He says he doesn't swing, obviously he needs a push."

"I don't need a push," Neil said.

"You'll be bored of your hand soon."

"Look," Neil said, fed up. "I don't care about your sexuality, but I'd appreciate it if you left me out of it."

"What's going on?" Andrew basically came out of nowhere, giving Neil another minor heart attack. He sat down between Neil and Nicky, his plate full of eggs and bacon.

"Nicky's planning to fuck Neil," Aaron said. "There's a few flaws, but he'll figure it out eventually."

Nicky scoffed, "You're such an asshole."

"A little early, Nicky," Andrew said.

"Look at him," he pointed at Neil. "Can you really blame me?"

Andrew was quick to grab Nicky's forearm with both hands. He twisted in opposite directions, stretching Nicky's skin. Nicky yelped and tried to pull away. Neil knew how strong Andrew's grip could be. The two of them stared at each other for an uncomfortable amount of time until they came to a silent agreement. Andrew let go. Nicky rubbed his red arm.

"What just happened?" Neil asked, trying to figure out if another fight was about to start. He looked to Andrew who resumed eating.

"Nothing," Nicky said.

"I thought the rule was never hurt another Glader," Neil said.

"Isn't that ironic," Aaron mumbled.

"What did you say?" Neil asked.

One small touch of Andrew's finger on Neil's knee warned him to shut his mouth. Nicky noticed.

"I have to talk to Dan," Neil excused himself.

It wasn't exactly a lie. He did have to find her to know what he was doing that day. More importantly, he had to leave before he said something stupid.

Aaron clearly didn't like Neil. In any other circumstance Neil wouldn't care, but this wasn't some silly rivalry. He had to be extra careful like Andrew told him to be. Nicky seemed to just want to get into Neil's pants rather than banish him. That was easier to deal with.

He wandered the Glade looking for Dan. He found her at the Tree Grove talking with Allison. They hadn't noticed Neil walking towards them yet. Allison's gray tee shirt was cut at the same length of her sports bra, showing off her toned stomach. Her jean shorts were rolled up above her mid thigh. Dan looked the same as always. She reminded Neil of Andrew by the way she carried herself, confident and strong.

Dan saw Neil waiting awkwardly and motioned him over. Neil did as he was instructed. Allison's smile perked up once she saw him.

"Sorry," Neil apologized for interrupting their conversation. "I didn't know where you wanted me."

"Right," Dan nodded. "Allison, you're not too busy today, right?"

"Not at all," she said.

"Perfect. Have fun you two," Dan patted Neil on the shoulder and waved Allison goodbye.

Allison waited until Dan was out of ear shot.

"Lucy told me you helped her out the other day. So kind of you," Allison pulled her hair back into a messy bun.

Neil kept his gaze on her face. "Dan told me to."

"Always follow the rules?" Allison asked.

"Yes," he said without hesitation. If this was a test he wasn't failing.

Allison dragged her eyes up and down Neil. "Follow me," she said.

They walked past the rows of vegetables. Neil found it odd that they grew so well with the lack of rain. Allison stopped in front of a decently sized wood pile stacked against the North wall a few yards from the door. Less than half of the logs were chopped into smaller pieces. A few axes leaned against them. Allison picked one up and handed it to Neil. His fingers wrapped securely around the handle.

"This needs to be done by tonight," Allison gestured to the pile.

She grabbed a small log and set it on top of a larger one.

"You know what to do?" she asked.

Neil answered by holding the axe above his head and aiming for the crack in the log. He let gravity do most of the work, only slightly pushing forward with his legs. The wood split in half easily. Neil balanced one half upright, splitting it again. The blade wedged itself into the large log. Neil tugged it free.

"Done this before?" she kicked the split wood.

"I don't know," he said honestly.

Allison searched his face. "I'll be over there. Come find me if you need anything. Okay, cutie?" She reached out and patted Neil's cheek.

For being a gardener her hands were remarkably soft. She didn't wait for any confirmation.

Neil was glad to be left alone. He let himself be consumed by his work. After a while his shoulders ached and he had to put more effort into each swing. The wooden handle rubbed fresh calluses on his palms. It was so hot sweat dripped down Neil's arms. He could taste the saltiness on his tongue.

A few hours flew by and Neil was forced to take a break. He dropped the axe on the ground. He sat on the log and combed his fingers through his damp hair. Footsteps echoed from the Maze then a dark blur sprinted past Neil. He panicked at first, thinking it was a Griever.

Kevin stopped six steps in. He looked like he just ran a marathon, he bent over and put his hands on his knees. Neil heard him take raspy deep breaths. Kevin's face was beat red. He was about to walk over and ask what the hell was wrong when Kevin collapsed to the ground.

Neil was shocked for a few seconds. Kevin barely moved, his arms helplessly at his side. What if something happened? What if he was stung?

He forced the fear away. Kevin needed help. Luckily for him, Neil still wanted to be a Runner.

"Allison!" Neil yelled at the same time he walked. Her head poked out from the garden. "Go get Dan!" He watched her face switch from confusion to understanding.

Kevin was still conscious. By the time Neil reached him, he was pushing himself up into a sitting position. Neil thought he was tired, but that didn't compare to Kevin's noticeable exhaustion.

"Hey, are you okay?" Neil asked.

Kevin glared at the stupid question. Which Neil agreed with.

"Did you find something?" Neil tried again.

"Shut," Kevin gasped, "up."

Neil did. They waited for Allison to come back with Dan. The girls showed up not even a minute later. Dan looked more concerned with this then she did with the Newbie.

"What are you doing? What happened?" Dan rushed.

Neil stood quietly in anticipation for Kevin's answers. Being the dramatic person he was Kevin forced himself to stand. Wincing with every move, he refused Dan's help.

"Spit it out," Dan said, clearly over the waiting game. Kevin glared at Neil. "I don't care what he hears. Talk!"

He gave the three of them a strange look. "I found a dead one."

Allison shook her head, "What? A dead what?"

Kevin smiled, wide and bright. Something twinkled in his eyes. It was something Neil never wanted to witness again. "A dead Griever."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SO fucking pumped for the next chapter. I’ve been waiting to write it for a while, I have so many ideas. Y’all better be prepared. 
> 
> I’m getting a little repetitive, but thank you for your comments and kudos! I hope you are still enjoying it!!


	7. The Maze

At lunch bets were made. The largest pool was that Kevin killed the Griever. It was hilarious just as it was ridiculous. Others bet on Kevin lying for attention. A short curvy girl collected and kept track of every bet in front of Homestead. She was given all sorts of items: clothes, pens, notebooks, candles, toothbrushes, and soap. Everything was stored safely in a large crate. Dan kept it locked.

Neil waited for Andrew at the Box with his meal. His clothes stunk so badly that people avoided him more than before. He took the extra time to quickly wash up in the bathroom sink, ultimately it did nothing. The calluses on his palms stung and his hair swept over his eyes.

When Andrew didn't show, Neil ate by himself. Nicky and Aaron kept looking his way. Dan sat with Allison and Seth, all stealing glances at Neil as well. He tried his best to pretend like it didn't bother him but Seth's glare was full of hatred. Kevin locked himself in the Map Room after his big announcement. The only other Glader he couldn't find was Renee. He guessed she and Andrew were fighting somewhere hidden in the Dead Heads.

The day dragged on for forever. Amazingly, Neil finished splitting the wood pile with time to spare. He even made an extra effort to sharpen each axe. That gave him a flirtatious thank you from Allison.

When the sun began to set, Kevin finally emerged from his hiding to gather the Runners. He paid Neil no attention as he waited at the North door. To annoy Neil further, he stood a few feet in the dark corridor. Right on time, the Runners came back, each were exhausted and surprised to find Kevin waiting. The four of them disappeared into the Map Room.

Allison dismissed Neil early. She told him that he would be getting her vote to be a Track-Hoe. Neil thanked her just to be polite. He sat on the Box, rubbing his thumb in circles over his new note while he watched the doors close. The smooth paper calmed his nerves. Wind carried lovely smells of roasted pork and potatoes throughout the Glade. A line for the showers wrapped around Homestead.

Tired and dehydrated, he laid back, his toes scrapping the concrete courtyard. He thought about how Andrew was too short to touch the ground. It made the corner of mouth curl in a small smile. He only rested his eyes for a maybe a minute when he was startled awake with a harsh kick to his shin. 

Andrew stepped back from Neil's flailing arms and legs. He held two cups in his left hand and balanced two plates on his right forearm. Steam rose from the tender pork chops. Neil looked around in a daze. Dinner was being served and torches were lit. Andrew waited motionless until Neil found his bearings.

"Sorry," Neil grumbled, his dry tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. Andrew didn't respond, only bent down a little for Neil to grab a plate and drink. Neil froze for a moment before pushing away the meaning behind Andrew's generosity. He took the smallest pork-chop. "Thank you."

A flame danced across Andrew's face once he sat down. The beginning of a bruise swelled on the side of his jaw. His knuckles were red and swollen, but not bleeding. Neil didn't ask about it since he knew the answer. He was curious about what injuries Renee had.

When the noise from the Maze and their chewing became too distracting, Neil cleared his throat.

"Kevin says he found a dead Griever," Neil thought he spoke too loud and lowered his voice halfway through the sentence. The odds that Andrew already heard the news were high.

Andrew's shoulders tensed. "That's what he says," he tossed a chunk of potato in the air, catching it in his mouth. After he chewed and swallowed he said, "You have a question, so ask."

"Where were you stung?" he forced it out before Andrew had the chance to change his mind.

In this lighting, the brown in Andrew's eyes swirled like pools of honey. Neil couldn't tell if their staring was a competition or if Andrew was trying to pick him apart at the seams. Either way, Neil couldn't justify his rising heartbeat.

"My back," he finally answered. Neil refrained from looking. "My turn, what did Janie tell you?"

Neil broke their staring contest. He set his place to the side, appetite suddenly gone.

"She said," he paused, not wanting to give too much away. Instinctively his hand pressed against the scars on his stomach.

We could hear your screams.

He looked at his plate to distract him, that was a mistake. The sight of meat made him nauseas. Neil moved on, "She told me Kevin helped them. Someone named Riko, I think." He caught Andrew's frown. "Then she freaked out and stabbed herself." He shook his head, "It's confusing."

"What is?"

"That she killed her self. It didn't seem like she meant to. She told me to help her." Neil held his throbbing head in his hands.

"You couldn't do anything anyway," Andrew said. "I suggest you let this go. It's not something you need to be meddling with."

That made Neil look up, "Are you implying you have?"

"I'm implying that I've been here a lot longer," he was glaring at Neil now. "You have more problems than him."

"Who? Kevin or Riko?" Andrew's stern glare told him that yes, both are Neil's concerns. "Do you know him?"

"Don't ask stupid questions. I don't remember anything."

"You're a terrible liar."

"Enlighten me."

"You aren't surprised about Janie mentioning Kevin."

"Kevin has a number permanently on his face, so does the Newbie. You'd be an idiot to not realize something is off."

It was a solid argument. Neil pressed forward, "I'm guessing you quit being a Runner after the Changing. That doesn't add up, you’ve clearly recovered. So, what do you really mean when you said there's nothing out there?"

Andrew glared at the West door. "I ran that fucking night mare for months. Didn't find one damn thing."

Neil was quiet. "It's just a game," he said in a hushed tone.

"Kevin got in your head."

"He told me I have to prove something to him."

Andrew scoffed, "He's a prick."

"Yeah," Neil sighed. "Any tips?"

"Kevin's a narcissist."

Feeling like he gained little to nothing from this conversation, Neil stood and stretched out his shoulders, wincing as he did. Andrew made no sign of leaving so Neil left him there. He gave his dishes to the kid who was on cleaning duty. The night was still young, Matt’s laugh could be heard on the other side of the Glade.

Each step closer to his hut felt like walking through mud. He took the time to leave his shoes outside since he noticed Matt did the same. Neil collapsed on his cot. He didn't fight the welcoming sleep. For the first night since arriving, he dreamt of nothing.

-

Neil was ready for the day. Showered and well rested, he waited at the Box for breakfast. His fingers tapped against his leg anxiously. The Runners were behind schedule. By now they would be stretching in front of whichever door they would explore that day. So far the only one awake was Neil.

And yet, side by side, Kevin and Dan left the Map Room. Dan wore running shoes, not her typical combat boots, and shorts. They hushed their conversation as they walked past Neil.

Dan gave him a small smile, “Morning.”

“Good morning,” Neil said.

Kevin refused to notice him.

When the doors finally opened, they sprinted through the North door. Neil watched in confusion.

The Griever. They're going to see it.

He basically inhaled his breakfast, Andrew looked at him with disgust. Neil couldn't focus the rest of the day. He was supposed to be with Aaron but he simply told him to fuck off. Nicky offered to take Neil, but he politely refused and said he would work in the Tree Grove for the day.

Luckily Allison didn't mind at all. She had him dig up fertilizer until lunch. Gladers frowned at Neil's odd smell as they waited in line. To his surprise, Matt wasn't with the other Cooks. He brought it up to Andrew.

"Where's Matt?" he asked.

Andrew shrugged and that was the end of that.

After lunch was over, Neil returned to Tree Grove. He was debating picking up his bucket and shovel when he spotted Matt leaning on the wall. He chewed on a finger nail with his other arm wrapped around his torso. Neil waited to see if anyone would go up to him. No one did. Neil kicked the bucket over and walked over to him.

"Hey," Neil said.

Matt forced a smile. "Hey, roomie," his fake cheerfulness didn't match the worried look on his face.

"Everything okay?"

He hesitated, but ultimately failed to hide his feelings, "Dan went out with Kevin this morning."

Neil pretended to be surprised, "Oh, what for?"

"She wanted to check out that Griever," Matt groaned, looking in the Maze. "I told her it was a bad idea. She didn't listen. I mean, why would she? This is crazy. Well, everything's been fucking crazy. With you and the Newbie and this, she's stressed out." He stuck a nail between his teeth again and mumbled, "I should've gone with them."

Neil felt bad for him. Though he couldn't imagine not wanting to see the dead Griever.

"She'll be okay. Kevin knows what he's doing," Neil assumed. He had to be a Keeper for a reason.

"That's what I thought," he peered into the corridor and spoke in a low voice. "They were supposed to be back an hour ago."

-

Every hour someone would check on Matt. At first Allison did. They talked for a few minutes before she gave up. Then Renee, who seemed to calm him down, though that only lasted until she left. The Cooks all showed their support by bringing Matt leftover stew and bread.

By the time the Runners would usually return Kevin and Dan were still gone. Matt ran from door to door, desperately looking for any signs of the missing duo. He even went inside each corridor by only a few feet.

Neil was with Nicky, Aaron, and Andrew in front of their hut. Andrew and Aaron sat on the ground beside the door with their heads back, their eyes closed, and their arms folded over their chest. They had to know how identical they looked. Neil didn't say anything because somehow he knew they would both deny it and get upset. Neil stood a few feet next to Andrew with Nicky talking his ear off. He only caught half of it.

"-are disgusting. Like, I don't want to clean literal shit all day when Seth is just sitting on his ass. I don't care that you're tired. We're all fucking tired," Nicky sighed loudly. "I'm complaining to Dan or something 'cause I'm done."

"Done talking?" Aaron asked, eyes still closed.

"Fuck off," Nicky huffed. "I'm not even talking to you."

Matt ran past them to the North door, completing his third loop. Neil chewed on his lip, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

"I'm waiting with Matt," Neil said, restless.

He pushed himself off the wall, walking towards Matt who was probably debating stepping into the Maze. He heard the boys mumbling their disapproval behind him, obviously following. Matt heard them as well. He faced them, running his hand through his hair and pale with grief.

"I haven't seen her," Matt said to no one in particular. Neil noticed how he only said her, not them.

"Can't we send a search party?" Neil asked. "Maybe the Runners?"

Aaron stepped forward, a scowl on his face. "No way," Aaron said. "It's against the rules. Plus, the doors are about to close."

"But won't the Grievers-"

"Shut it, Greenie. There's no way in hell anyone is going out there. We can't afford to lose any more people."

Matt breathed out through his nose, "He's right. They swore an oath, just like every Keeper did. Just like you will at your Gathering. We never go out during the night. Never." His face fell as he spoke.

Neil turned to Andrew and Nicky to get some help but Nicky was just as pale as Matt. Andrew didn't show any remorse.

Andrew said, "If they don't get back before the doors close. They're dead."

Dead? But Neil just saw them that morning. He talked to Kevin yesterday. They couldn't die so fast, so easily. Nicky turned and walked back to Homestead, head hanging low.

"The doors close in two minutes," Matt squeezed Neil's shoulder, more to comfort himself than Neil.

His words made the situation more dire. Neil stood still despite his natural reaction to rip away from the simple touch to give Matt the support he needed. For some reason, what Matt felt was familiar to Neil. Loosing someone you cared for or depended on was difficult to go through alone, Neil would be there for Matt.

Neil didn't know Dan or Kevin, not really. But Dan had given him a place in the Glade, had showed him kindness and hospitality where it wasn't expected. Kevin was a prick, although that didn't mean he had to die because of it. He imagined them both being ripped to shreds by Grievers. A shudder ran down his spine.

The walls boomed, shaking Neil out of his thoughts. The doors were closing. Grinding and rumbling shook the ground as the right wall slowly moved. Neil counted.

One.

Two.

Three.

The four of them stood at the line where stone met grass. It was almost pitch black in the corridor, Neil squinted to see. He looked behind his shoulder. A few Gladers waited as well. Seth stuck out like a sore thumb. Hatred radiated from him, he stared Neil down. Neil turned away.

Fifty nine.

Sixty.

Sixty one.

Along the wall its giant metal rods slid out as it prepared to lock for the night. Neil couldn’t stop himself from staring up in fascination like he did every day.

A dark figure rounded the corner.

Neil stepped back at first, so did Matt. He thought it was a Griever. But as valuable seconds passed he realized it was Kevin. Dan had one arm wrapped around his shoulders, her head hung low. He dragged her.

“They got her!” Kevin screamed, voice weak.

Neil noticed his signs of fatigue: sweating, panting, difficultly moving. They were at least a hundred feet away.

One hundred and two.

One hundred and three.

They weren’t going to make it. Nothing could stop stone. He didn’t hear Matt’s cries or Aaron’s screams. Neil stepped closer.

Come on, come on.

Kevin’s stumbled and fell. Dans lifeless body dropped hopelessly. He tried to get her back up, then decided to pull her by her arm.

Neil looked at Matt, veins bulged in his neck and spit flew from his mouth as he yelled. Then he looked in the Maze just as Kevin fell again. That was it. It was over.

One hundred and twenty two.

He vaguely heard Andrew’s voice break through the drumming of his own heartbeat.

“Neil! No!”

One hundred and forty eight.

Andrew grabbed at Neil’s shirt and that was enough.

He sprinted forward. The door made no effort to stop. He could run for only a second before stone pressed against his side. Matt screamed from behind him. He was going to be squished to death. Panic rushed over him.

Move. Move.

He clawed his way forward. It was harder to breathe, he had to turn to his side to fit. It was so loud, his ears had to be bleeding.

His body fell onto cool stone. The door slammed shut behind him, echoing in the corridor. Neil sucked in sharp breaths, pressing his hand to his ribs. The sudden realization of what he had just done crushed his relief of still being alive.

Twenty feet in front of him Kevin collapsed on his knees. He was sweaty and exhausted with his backpack securely tied around his chest. The tattoo was even more menacing in the dark. Dan laid forgotten on the ground. Her head tilted to one side, her arm stretched out to Kevin. Fresh scratches and bruises covered her skin. Neil couldn’t hear her breathing but he guessed it was low. A Griever sting. Neil swallowed down his fear. Kevin peered up the doors, and then to Neil.

“If that was your plan to convince me,” Kevin shook his head. “You’re a fucking moron.”

Neil pushed himself up on wobbly legs. “I was just trying to help,” talking hurt his sides.

Kevin laughed a humorless laugh. “You’re dead now. We’re all dead.”

He ignored Kevin and made his way over to Dan. Dropping to her side, he pressed two fingers on her neck where her pulse beat slowly. Blood soaked her hair. On further inspection, Neil saw a small cut trace along her hairline.

“What happened?” Neil asked.

“It doesn’t matter,” Kevin sighed, he took his time to stand. Neil glared at him. Kevin nodded deep into the Maze. “Grievers are great actors.”

Neil pressed the back of his hand to Dan’s cheek. Just as he suspected she had a fever.

“Is she going to die?” the question sounded pathetic compared to everything that was at stake.

“We didn’t make it back. She’s dead already.”

“But what about Andrew? He lived-“

“Listen!” Kevin shouted, making Neil flinch. “Andrew made it back before sunset. He got the Serum. Do you see that anywhere out here?” he swung his hands wildly. “She’s dead!”

Neil groaned at yet another thing he didn’t know. Serums. Grievers. Wicked.

“Then what do we do? There has to be something.”

Kevin reached down and wrapped his fingers around Dans wrist. Thick scars littered Kevin’s hand, they ran up to his mid forearm. Small punctures where stitches held split flesh together randomly decorated his skin. His fingers flexed, but it was a struggle compared to his uninjured hand.

“Grab her feet,” Kevin said.

“Why?”

“We’ll bring her to the door. At least Matt won’t have to look for her.”

Guilt pierced through Neil’s heart. Fuck. This would break Matt. Solemnly, he grabbed Dan’s ankles. They carried her over to the crack in the wall where the door would open in the morning. Kevin was stronger and taller than Neil, it made it difficult for Neil to keep up.

They propped her up into a sitting position, her head rolled to one side, one hand resting palm up in her lap. Sweat soaked her clothes and flattened the curls in her hair. Her breaths were raspy and uneven now. It didn’t seem like she had much longer. Neil stepped back.

“Now what?” he asked.

Kevin shook his head frantically. He ran a shaking hand through dark hair. “I don’t know. Fuck. Shit. I’m so fucked.”

Neil clenched his fists in order to keep his own frustration tame, “You know this Maze. Where do we go?” he didn’t mean to yell but his irritation spiked.

It seemed to work. Kevin’s eyes widened as he stared back at Neil, finally beginning to think.

A high pitched screech forced their conversation to a stop. It bounced from wall to wall. Low metallic rumbling followed shortly after, like knives sharpening against a wet stone. Neil pressed his fist against the deepest and longest cut on his torso.

“We have to run,” Kevin whispered. “Run, and don’t stop. You won’t make it.”

He sprinted down the corridor and took a left turn, vanishing behind green vines and pale stone. Neil stayed still, horrified about what was to come.

Run.

Neil followed Kevin’s last advice then skidded to a stop right before he was about to turn. Clicks and screeches grew louder, a low moan hidden in the darkness was enough to set Neil into a panic. Behind that door, was Matt, moments away from losing whatever Dan was to him.

He ran back to Dan, mind made up. He wouldn’t let Matt go through this. At least, not if Neil still had a chance to help. Neil bottled up that voice that was screaming at him for being so stupid and buried it deep in the back of his mind.

He wiped the sweat from his brow before getting into position. With Dan’s legs spread, he crouched between them, his back towards her. He wrapped her arms around his neck. She was only a little bigger than him. Confidence tricked him into thinking he could carry her on his back.

The dead weight knocked Neil down face first as soon as he tried to stand. Neil gasped for air and wiggled out from under Dan. She didn’t make any movement that she was awake. Which could be a good thing, seeing as there was a high possibility that they would both be dead in a few short minutes.

He took the approach Kevin had early, dragging her by her arms. He frantically tried to think of somewhere to go. But he wasn’t a Runner, he didn’t know the Maze as well as Kevin.

Neil only made it three feet before his strength gave out. He and Dan both fell onto the ground. Neil panted and sweat profusely. Another plan gone, he had to think hard.

Janie.

They could climb. He scurried to the wall closest to them. In the Maze the ivory was not nearly as thick as in the Glade. But he was quickly running out of options. He tugged on a thick vine. It ripped off the wall but never fell. Cautiously, he gripped it tightly with both hands and leaned back. The vine held his weight. He grabbed another, testing his weight, and then another. He continued this until he was ultimately satisfied there were enough to climb.

He went back to Dan. Her clothes were damp now and her skin was alarmingly hot. He struggled to drag her over to the vines, walking backwards since that seemed to do better.

Neil grunted with strained effort as he propped Dan as high as he could. Blindly reaching for a vine, he pulled it over and quickly wrapped it under her arm pits and across her torso. Like a snake, the vine squeezed her chest. He tied it off once he couldn’t hold her any longer. Neil stepped back. He almost cried out when she didn’t fall. Taking other vines, he wrapped them around her arms and legs. He took a second to look at his handy work.

Her legs twisted at an uncomfortable position and her arms pointed up at the sky. Neil worried about her circulation cutting off. It didn’t matter. He would rather her loose a leg than her life.

Metal scratched stone. Neil spun around, thinking a Grover would be right there. The corridor was still empty. They were close though.

Neil climbed the wall until he was directly over Dan. He almost slipped several times. Moist skin made his grip slippery and his energy was already drained. He yanked a strong vine from the wall and wrapped it snugly under his arm pits. He let himself slack, and like a rag doll he hung a couple feet above Dan’s head. He let his forehead rest upon the thick ivy in front of him.

He thought about giving up and running. Dan wasn’t his friend. He didn’t know her. They only met a week ago? It was hard to tell how much time passed.

No, he can’t leave her. Not again. A quiet and foggy memory threatened to take control of his mind. Whoever he left before had to wait.

Neil spun himself around. He looked down at Dan and the five vines that supported her. The palms of his hands bled from open sores. He ignored the sting when he grabbed the vine tied around her torso. Bracing his feet in the small cracks of the wall, he pulled. He couldn’t do it. The vine ripped from his hands and he gasped.

Neil untied himself to climb back down. Maybe he could push instead of pull.

The process was full of trial and error. He started with her legs, pushing one leg as high as it could bend, wrapping another vine around it and bracing his hands just in case it fell. He did the next leg. Then her arms. He gave up on pushing up against her bottom since she was too heavy.

Neil did the same to himself. Tying and untying the vine that he wrapped under his arm pits. At an agonizing pace, he pushed her higher up the wall. When her limbs became to crowded with vines he tried to untie the old ones, but he couldn’t see very well. Then he tried to use the shiv in his pocket. The edge lost its sharpness after only one vine was sawed off. He then tied one off on other vines that were already attached on the wall. It worked.

Inch by inch, they ascended the wall. Neil shook from exhaustion. He kept going until he physically couldn’t anymore. With a soft whimper, Neil let himself hang in the air. The bruise across his chest from Andrew’s shovel throbbed.

He pushed himself around with sore arms so he could face the Maze. About thirty feet below him was the ground. It sounded like a lot, though it was minuscule compared to how tall the walls were.

Neil was done. There they would hide, or fight, whichever the Grievers decided.

Long minutes slowly crept by. He started to feel numb from where the vine squeezed his chest. He counted in his head in the two languages he understood.

Above him, he heard a small rustle in the leaves. He almost jumped out of his skin when the same little bug from the Dead Heads poked its head out an inch from Neil’s shoulder. Its red light stared directly at him, and he stared back. The word Wicked painted on its long body.

The little spy slithered up and pointed its light at Dan. And then it disappeared.

The second it did a loud groan echoed. Blue lights flickered on the wall in front of the corner, where Kevin ran off. A Griever scurried into the corridor. Neil immediately relaxed his body to mimic Dan’s lifelessness.

The Griever scraped its metal legs against the stone, tucked its limbs in, rolled forward, then straightened its body out. Its tail flicked from side to side, curving ever so gently. In the dim light Neil saw how the Grievers wet skin shimmered and flexed. Black thick hair stuck out from where metal mixed with flesh.

The middle of the disgusting creature was at least four feet wide, and when fully stretched, maybe seven feet long. It whirred and clicked.

Longer, thinner, and sharper needles stuck out along the sides of its body. Maybe that’s how they stung Dan and Andrew. He couldn’t fully believe Andrew survived that thing.

It rolled again, closer to Neil and Dan. The Griever zig zagged in an odd pattern, closing the distance from them and it.

Don’t look up. Don’t look up.

The sudden stench of burning metal and flesh nearly sent him back in time. Back to the heat of wild flames and charred bones. To salt water and cool wind. To broken promises. To running.

Neil closed his eyes and focused on not making a sound. He didn’t risk breathing.

Clicks kept echoing in the corridor. The Griever had no plan to stop its hunt.

Go away. Please, go away.

He peeked through his eye lids. The Griever rolled once more, stopping directly under his defenseless feet.

The Maze went dark. Its blue lights shut off. Even the sounds of an engine hushed. Neil desperately needed oxygen. His eyes watered and chest burned.

Could it smell his fear? Could it hear his heart beat? He waited, allowing slow inhales through his nose. He waited for minutes. There were no sounds to tell if it had left.

In a burst of light and sound, the Griever shot back to life. It climbed the wall. Metal legs chipped stone and cut through vines.

The only thing he could do was run. He couldn’t go up as that would put Dan in danger. Going down was stupid, he wasn’t going to willfully hand himself over. He had to go to the side.

He held onto the ivy with his left hand and untied himself with his right. It was a test of speed. Who would win. Would would lose.

Once free, Neil waisted no time on wrapping the vine around his hand and shuffling a few feet to the left and swinging himself to the right. Just before he would fall back towards Dan and the Griever, he grabbed at another vine. His body slammed into the wall and his arms almost ripped out of their sockets. Neil ripped the vine off the wall, it was secure like the others. He shuffled two feet to the left, and swung to the right.

A glance to the left allowed Neil to realize that the Griever was already halfway to him. Dan was a black bulge behind it.

Neil repeated his swinging method. Each time it became easier. He moved faster than he could have ever wished for.

With the next vine, he loosened his grip to slide down the wall. It ripped apart his sores. He swung. Each swing lowering closer to the ground.

He remembered the corridor turned left at the last second when he swung and the wall disappeared. Swinging backward, he kicked his legs and twisted around. His body slammed into the corner. The wind knocked out of him. He let go, arms flailing.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw the Griever lunge forward. He reached out for anything to stop him from plunging to his death. His fingers gripped a vine and ripped his hand bloody and raw. Neil grasped the vine with his other hand and pushed himself off the wall with both feet. Narrowly missing the Grievers tail. It cracked the stone where Neil was seconds before.

The small triumph was ruined when the momentum of his kick swung him back to where the Griever was. He tucked his legs in as he descended back down. Seconds before he would make contact with the creature, he kicked out his legs. The heels of his boots sunk deep into gushy skin. He kicked off, squirming and twisting frantically to avoid its razor sharp needles.

Neil used what little direction he had to jump to the right at the wall. Falling again, he reached out for something to stop him. His hands found a vine but it didn’t hold like the others. It pulled free from its roots. He reached again. This time he found one that was steady. Neil heard the scrapes and clicks as the Griever clawed after him. He felt a deep cut burn from his right shoulder down across his back.

He slid down the vine holding tight enough to slow him down. He ignored the pain as his skin shredded off his palms and fingers. When his shoes touched stone he took off running down the new corridor.

Adrenaline helped push himself to run faster. He took random turns. Thinking too late to keep track just in case he some how made it back.

He didn’t waste his time looking behind him. Vibrations from the Griever rolling felt its way into Neil’s feet and up his legs.

Breathing became harder, he was slowing down. He wondered if it would be easier to fight it off. If he could stab it, or find its heart. Or if it even had a heart. All of those ideas were terrible. He pushed forward.

At the next corner, he skidded to a stop. Directly in front of him four Grievers tucked their legs in and rolled. All aimed at Neil. He looked back at his first Griever who was slowing down. They thought Neil gave up.

They underestimated him.

Neil sprinted full speed at the one who had been chasing him. The Griever may have been stunned for a split second but it quickly rolled, spikes sticking up in all directions.

Before they collided, Neil braked on his right foot and jumped to the left, slamming into a wall. Like a ball, the Griever rolled and crashed into the other four. They were all knocked off guard.

Neil sprung to his feet and raced down the open corridor, violently aware that five Grievers chased after him. There was no possible way his legs could keep going but they seemed to do so. He ran past three long corridors.

Two hands grabbed ahold of his shirt and yanked him back into the fourth corridor. Neil swung his arms to free himself.

“Stop! Stop!”

Neil did once he realized Kevin was the one yelling and not his thoughts. His hands twisted into Neil’s shirt and he pinned him to the wall. He looked fucking awful.

“Get off-“ Neil shoved him back, still furious that he left Dan alone.

“Shut up! Follow me,” he yelled, pulling Neil with him anyway. The metallic groans close behind.

It took him a moment to regain his composure. Then they fell into each other’s strides, lending support when the other needed it. Kevin grabbed Neil’s shirt when he fell behind and Neil did the same. The Keeper expertly ran the Maze, making sudden turns without telling Neil. Neil didn’t mind, as long as they were running away.

“You,” Kevin heaved, “gave me,” another gasp, “an idea.”

Neil refused to waste his breath on talking. He simply followed Kevin’s lead, completely okay with going along with whatever plan the asshole had.

Another turn and the walls ended in blackness. Neil didn’t slow, but he couldn’t comprehend what he was seeing. The walls and floor descended until it was cut off. As they got closer, he saw stars twinkling. The end of the Maze.

Before they reached the end Kevin slowed down and grabbed at Neil’s shirt to do the same. They slowed down into a steady jog. Neil squinted in the pitch black. He couldn’t see anything. It was a sickening feeling.

Andrew wasn’t wrong. There’s nothing.

“What-“ Neil began.

“Don’t fall off,” Kevin raised his arms above his head to help catch his breath. “You wouldn’t be the first.”

Neil jerked his head to the beginning of the corridor. Blue lights danced on the walls and flickered over the boy’s bodies. The sky lightened considerably, dawn was approaching. Still, no sign of a sun.

“Stay next to me,” Kevin faced the Grievers who popped up one by one. The plan Kevin had was fucking insane. Neil prayed it would work. “Wait until I say, then we-“

“I got it,” Neil cut him off.

He bounced on the balls of his feet, nervous and scared. The Grievers tucked their legs in and rolled. They lined up in a line. Kevin tensed.

“Wait!” he said.

Out of some natural instinct the two boys stepped closer together, arms brushing each other’s.

“Not yet!” Kevin screamed over the loud noise. The Grievers were less than five feet away, gaining speed with each passing second. “Now!”

Neil jumped to the left and at the same time Kevin jumped to the right. He felt a whirl of air as he slammed against the stone wall. The clicking stopped abruptly. He anticipated a long fade.

Hurrying, Neil ran back to the edge. A yard or two down the side, the last Griever managed to wedge its tail into a crack in the stone. It screeched loudly and clicked rapidly. Kevin joined Neil’s side.

Silently, he tugged the dull clay shiv from his pocket. With a deadly actuate aim, he threw it at the wet mushy skin. The tip sunk into the flesh. The tail wretched out from the stone and it dropped into the dark void, disappearing along with the others.

Neil stepped back. The extent of his injuries affected him so intensely he fell on his knees. His hands shook in front of his face. They oozed and blistered, dark, dried, and wet blood made it impossible to see if there was any skin left.

Hesitantly, he reached behind his right shoulder. The cut was deep and bleeding as well. All of that adrenaline made him forget about how much it hurt. He winced and pulled his middle finger away from the wound.

He shut his eyes. Just like the Maze, a panic attack crushed Neil’s need to continue on running.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry about the wait... I hope this extra long chapter makes up for it. 
> 
> Honestly this was a bitch to write and I had a lot of help from the Maze Runner book. If you notice any typos let me know, my brain doesn’t notice them sometimes. 
> 
> But anyway, thank you for your support!
> 
> Please leave comments! I’ll make sure to start responding to all of them. I feel guilty not doing so. 
> 
> :D


	8. A Promise

Neil didn’t move for over half an hour. Kevin sat across from him, leaning back against the wall with a far away look in his eyes. Neil couldn’t stop his hands from trembling. He kept them close to his chest as he took slow, ragged breaths.

When he tried bending one finger, dried blood cracked and flaked off. His left wrist was bruised from holding himself up in the vines. When he rolled his wrist back and forth, a dull ache restricted his range of motion. Although he couldn't see his back, he knew it was bad. It stung when he breathed too deeply. The hem of his pants felt moist from a mix of sweat and blood. His shirt was glued to his skin. Thankfully he wasn't stung but the possibility that he probably hadn’t realized it yet was still plausible. Kevin didn't look hurt, just sleep deprived and dehydrated.

"Am I a Runner now?" Neil asked sarcastically, his voice weak.

Kevin didn't answer. He stood up and took uneasy steps closer to the edge. Neil debated staying where he was. Then chose to take a look as well. His right ankle was tender from landing earlier. Neil limped his way over to Kevin. They were side by side, looking over the cliff.

The sky stretched on in front of them into a flat, black horizon. A beautiful ombré of blues, oranges, and purples lit up the Maze. Neil waited for the sun to rise, it never did. The world continued to brighten. Now that he thought about it, he’d never seen or heard any birds in the Glade.

The Maze cut off at the cliff and went straight down. Below the horizon was a black void. Even with the help of sunlight, Neil couldn't see what was at the bottom of the cliff. It made it seem like the Maze was suspended miles above the ground.

"We killed them," Neil pointed out.

If they were truly miles high, then the Grievers had no chance of surviving. He imagined a Griever scaling up the stone with its curved tail. He backed away from the ledge.

Kevin shook his head, the tips of his hair had a subtle hint of brown in this lighting, "I don't think so." He explained, "A couple of Gladers had theories about things disappearing over the Cliff. We proved them wrong though."

He demonstrated by tossing a chipped piece of stone over the edge. It grew smaller and smaller until it was a tiny white dot, then it was swallowed into by the pitch black.

"How does that prove anything?" Neil asked.

"It didn't disappear, did it?"

Neil frowned, "So, what? The Grievers are too stupid they didn't know there was a cliff?"

Kevin sighed and ran a hand over his hair. He wiped his hand on his shirt, leaving behind a sweat stain, "Maybe. But we made it to sunrise, and that hasn't happened before."

"What does that mean for us?"

The corner of his mouth twitched into something that resembled a smile. "We won this round.”

A game, that was all this was to Kevin. If he played for freedom or ego, it was hard to tell. Neil couldn't think of any other reason for Kevin to be so determined. He was a narcissist, a cocky guy that didn't just think he was better than everyone else, he knew. And he liked it. He liked being in charge. He liked being Keeper. He liked running. He liked playing the game. The Gladers were below him, and Neil realized that the morning after Janie's death.

The Maze groaned and a strong gust of wind almost knocked Neil to the ground. He felt the vibration first, then heard the low moan of stone grinding against stone.

"Shit," Neil clenched his fist and immediately gasped in pain. Kevin noticed but didn't say anything. "Dan," he said out of breath, "we have to get her."

"She's not alive," Kevin said. Neil didn't know how to respond. “Come on. I’m thirsty.”

Kevin lead the way through the corridor. They took their time walking back to the North door. The noise grew louder the closer they got. Both of them were panting. Neil felt light headed as each step was like walking on glass.

"She was stung, not mauled to death," Neil managed to say after a few steps. He struggled to keep up with Kevin's long stride.

"The Griever's wouldn't have left her alone," Kevin gripped the strap of his backpack. "Trust me, she's gone."

He wanted to tell Kevin that he was wrong, that they did leave Dan alone. But they could have went back. Neil could have risked his life for nothing. He wanted to find out for himself. They walked through the Maze, and when they were about to turn another endless corner, Kevin ran right into Andrew. Kevin yelped and jumped back.

Andrew already had a knife in one hand, the metal reflected off the walls. Behind Andrew were the three Runners, all wide eyed as they stared at their Keeper and Neil. Andrew was the only one who didn't seem star struck. He was pissed. His brows were narrowed, his fists were clenched, and dark bags hung low under his eyes. He looked like he didn't sleep at all. And despite everything, he marched right up to Neil.

Andrew grabbed the front of Neil's shirt and pulled him down to his level. The fabric snagged at the skin on his back, ripping open the wound all over again. Neil's vision blurred from the intense pain and he almost fell forward. Andrew was there to hold him up, his hands found their way to Neil's waist. The blade’s handle dug into his hip. Andrew let Neil rest his sweaty forehead on his shoulder.

"You're an idiot," Andrew said. Neil almost laughed, it came out as a throaty groan.

"Yeah," Neil forced out. He couldn't object, not this time.

They stayed like that for a long minute. Andrew was as hard as stone but Neil didn't mind. He needed Andrew’s unwavering hold. He lifted his head from Andrew's shoulder once he was almost positive he wouldn’t faint. He gave a small smile of gratitude before stepping away.

Neil forgot about Kevin and the Runners. They were all waiting awkwardly. Kevin glared at the back of Andrew's head, who, of course, ignored him. Andrew's eyes searched Neil's face, checking for any other injuries.

"You need to see the Med-Jack," Andrew said.

"No," Neil shook his head. "Aaron needs to see Dan first." The Runner's faces fell at the mere mention of their leader. "No. She's alive."

Neil pushed through the Runners with his shoulder, making sure to leave his hands at his sides. Andrew was quick to follow. When the rest turned, he heard them gasp at the sight of Neil's back.

“Is that from a Griever?” one of the boys asked. No one answered.

Neil led them the rest of the way with the help of Andrew pointing where to turn. Part of him expected the door to be closed. It wasn't. The Glade was bright and sunny. Vibrant green grass and trees looked fake compared to the lifelessness of the Maze. Neil walked along the wall, searching for Dan.

"She's there," Neil stood under the spot where she was hidden. He nodded towards her.

"Is she alive?" one of the male Runners asked.

"She was when I left her," Neil said.

“When you left her,” Andrew scoffed, knife tucked back under his arm band.

Dan was hidden pretty well under the vines. The only thing that was obvious was the clump of plants and her shoes that stuck out. Hanging detached from the wall, to the right of her was the vine Neil supported himself with. There were very clear visible chips and scratches in the stone from the Griever. They continued down the corridor, stopping abruptly where it jumped. Neil pressed his left forearm to his side as he remembered hitting the corner and free falling.

"How did you outrun it?" Kevin asked Neil, eyes following the Griever tracks.

Neil opened his mouth to tell Kevin that it didn’t matter. The one thing that did was Dan and whatever the hell the Serum was.

"Neil," Andrew said, he hovered his hand over Neil's bruised wrist and bloody hand.

Neil quickly lowered his arm, "It's fine." He stepped closer to the wall. "Let's get her down. She needs the-"

"You're going to the infirmary."

Neil blinked at Andrew. He didn't go through everything just for her to die. "Without the Serum-"

"They'll handle it. Neil, you're hurt. You can’t help like this,” Andrew crossed his arms. They stared at each other. Andrew challenged Neil’s stubbornness.

"Go, Neil," Kevin said. "Tell Aaron to bring the Serum, and tell him to run.” Then he turned to his Runners, "Find Matt and let him know Dan's still in one piece." She sprinted into the Glade without missing a beat. "Well? Get your asses up there." One boy rolled up his sleeves while the other took off his backpack.

Andrew motioned for Neil to follow him. The walk to Homestead was agonizingly slow. Gladers lined up to watch them. They were quiet, like they were witnessing a dead man come back to life. By the way Neil looked, he supposed that was true. Neil kept his head down and held onto Andrew's sleeve, trusting him to lead the way.

Neil let go of the breath he was holding once he was inside. His knees buckled and he barely made it to the empty chairs. He fell on the floor and rested his arms and head on the chair. The cool wood soothed his hot, clammy skin.

“Aaron!” Andrew yelled. Aaron ran down the stairs.

"Neil?" Aaron said, confused. Neil couldn't focus on his face, he hummed. "How did you... what happened?"

Andrew was the one to answer, "Dan needs the Serum."

Aaron was even more surprised to hear that Dan was alive, "Shit. Okay, Ill head over. Fuck, Neil, that looks bad." Neil felt a hand press onto his forehead, he was too tired to fully open his eyes. "He's a little warm. Andrew, can you-"

"Yes," Andrew said. "Dan's dying. Hurry the fuck up."

"Right, right," Aaron ran back up the stairs and came back holding a syringe filled with a blue metallic liquid. "He's not awake, you two should be fine." He left Homestead in a frenzy.

"Can you walk?" Andrew asked Neil.

Neil clenched his teeth together, literally forcing himself upright. He used the chair for support, arms shaking under his weight. The room spun for a second. He looked up the stairs with dread. Andrew noticed. He gripped Neil's bicep, letting Neil lean on him once again. Neil fought hard not to pass out. Using Andrew like a safety net, they climbed the stairs. One step at a time.

Andrew held the sheet open for them both. The room was less terrifying during the day. One wall had a sink and cupboards. Each bed was separated by a window and night stand. Number three was in the same bed. He looked slightly better. There was more color in his face and he didn’t look as sweaty. His clothes were changed and the blanket folded at his stomach. The thin white scars on his fingers were more noticeable in the light. He couldn't help but stare at the tattoo. And as he did, the name Riko rang in his mind. Neil swallowed and looked away. Andrew helped him sit on one of the extra beds furthest from the Greenie.

Neil watched Andrew. He moved gracefully, opening cupboards and gathering supplies without a second thought. Tweezers, needles, thread, gauze, anti-bacterial creme, rubbing alcohol, and latex gloves. The last thing he did was wash his hands and fill a glass bowl with lukewarm soapy water. A clean wash cloth soaked in the bowl. He set it down besides Neil and pulled up a chair. The gloves snapped loudly against Andrew's skin as he pulled them on.

Andrew twisted the wash cloth over the bowl, squeezing out the excess water. He extended his fingers and waited for Neil to hold out his hand.

Neil grumbled, "I can do it." He reached for the cloth, Andrew pulled back.

"Don't be frustrating," Andrew said. They stared at one another.

"Fine," Neil sighed.

Andrew gently wiped the moist towel over Neil’s palm. He hissed. Andrew gave him an annoyed look. It took a while to clean his hands properly. Andrew had to use the tweezers to pull out tiny pieces of vines and dirt.

The water slowly changed from crystal clear to a murky red. With his hands clean, they didn’t seem as bad as they first looked. Sure, he wouldn't be able to hold basically anything for a day or two but at least his skin was somewhat intact.

Andrew put the cloth back in the water. He squeezed a dime sized amount of cream on his fingertip and spread a thin layer over Neil’s hands. It was tinted green, and the infused aloe Vera helped cool the burning sensation.

Neil kept his eyes on Andrew's concentrated face as he wrapped the gauze. A small winkle between his brows creased, and his hair was close to white in the bright light streaming through the windows. He didn't dare speak, nervous that whatever he'd say would set Andrew off.

The bandages were tight, but didn't restrict too much movement. His only fingers that weren't completely wrapped were his pinkies. Andrew pulled the gloves off. He threw them in a small waste basket beside the bed.

"Take off your shirt," Andrew said, stiffening his posture. He looked almost as uncomfortable as Neil.

"What?" Neil's voice cracked. Andrew didn't move. "No."

He braced himself for a question and prepared an excuse. He was shy. He didn’t shower. Instead Andrew reached under the bed and grabbed a thin blanket.

"Cover up with this," he flung the blanket over Neil's leg. "You need a few stitches."

Neil was visibly shaking now. He knew Andrew was right. And he hated it. The thought of anyone seeing his scars made him sick to his stomach. Even with the blanket covering his front half, Andrew would see the bullet hole on his back and possibly the iron burn over his shoulder. He didn’t know if he had more scars hidden back there. He didn’t want to find out.

"Neil,” Andrew said slowly. “Should I get Aaron?”

“No,” Neil said desperately.

“Then we need to get this over with.”

Neil stared at the floor between his legs. He didn’t want to. He shut his eyes and tried to fight back the nausea.

“How close did you get to the Griever?” Andrew asked.

“Close,” he whispered.

He relived the memory. One inch to the left or right the Griever would have gotten him. It was pure luck that he wasn’t stung. It was unbelievable that he out ran, not one Griever, but five. And it was unfathomable that he and Kevin were the firsts to survive a night in the Maze. None of it was possible. Yet they did it.

Andrew leaned forward and grabbed the back of Neil’s neck. He kept his grip firm enough to apply light pressure but was equally careful not to hurt Neil.

“Don’t ever do anything that stupid again,” Andrew warned.

Neil’s eyes fluttered open. Andrew had a murderous rage churning beneath the hard mask he wore.

Neil breathed in deeply through his nose, “Why do you care?”

It was a question Neil had wanted to hear him answer for the past few days. Maybe in Andrew’s own messed up way he had a method of explaining the reasoning behind what he did. Maybe he only acts like that because that’s the only way he’ll survive. Or it’s because he’s already chosen not to live and he truly doesn’t care about anything or anyone.

It still begged the question of why Neil? Why let him sit at the Box? Why bring him dinner? Why could he touch Andrew while no one else could? Why let him talk back so freely when Andrew threatened his own brother at knife point? Why run back in the Maze even after Andrew’s terrible accident? None of it made sense.

The muscles in Andrew’s jaw clenched and unclenched as he weighed the significance of answering truthfully or not.

“I made a promise,” he said.

Those four words echoed in Neil’s ears. His heart raced as more questions flooded his mind. Andrew was hiding a lot more than he expected.

He was hiding a promise.

“To who?” Neil asked.

Andrew’s eyes darted back and forth, the fire never flickering. He squeezed Neil’s neck before letting go.

“Can you take off your shirt?” Andrew asked. When Neil didn’t respond he said, “Neil. Yes or no?”

Goosebumps erupted down his arms and neck. He was still confused about what Andrew just said. Neil felt like he was hearing a language he didn’t understand. Andrew made a promise, and for some reason, it affected Neil. The pain from his injuries was enough for him to respond.

“Yes. Just don’t,” his words caught in his throat. “Don’t touch them, okay?”

“Okay.”

With Andrew's back to Neil, he hooked his pinkies under his shirt and slowly lifted it up. The worse part was when the shirt peeled off his skin. And it was even more painful to lift his arms. Halfway through, Neil had to take a breather. He counted to ten, then quickly yanked the shirt over his head. It fell onto the floor in a crumpled heap. He awkwardly swung his legs to one side of the bed to give Andrew better access. Neil's hands shook as he lifted the blanket up to his chin and over both shoulders. He double checked that the iron burn was covered.

"Okay," Neil panted.

He heard Andrew turn. Judging by Andrew’s deathly silence, his suspicions were correct, there were more scars. Andrew moved the chair behind Neil and got to work. He started by cleaning the wound with a clean cloth. Then sterilized it, which stung so badly Neil's eyes watered.

"This will hurt. Stay still," Andrew warned.

The needle and thread pierced through his skin. Neil bit down on the blanket to keep his whimpers to a bare minimum. Each time Andrew heard Neil groan in agony, he wouldn’t move again until Neil gave him a nod. Andrew was quick and efficient. He wasted no time sewing Neil’s flesh back together. Andrew finished by smearing on more of the cream and taping on a bandage.

He crossed the room to a closet full of spare towels, blankets, and clothes. He grabbed an oversized long sleeve black shirt and tossed it on Neil's bed.

"Put it on," Andrew said.

Andrew took the bowl of water to the sink. Neil made sure he wouldn't turn around before changing. His stitches pulled every time he moved his shoulders or bent his back. The shirt’s material was more silky than his other clothes, so when it brushed against his injuries it didn’t hurt as bad. The downside was that the collar hung too low. Neil looked down, a diagonal thin scar peaked over the fabric. Frantic, he covered it with his bandaged hand.

Neil helped Andrew clean up by sweeping the trash into the waste basket with the back of his free hand.

“You should sleep,” Andrew said, stuffing the last of the supplies in one of the cupboards. He filled a small glass with tap water.

Panic instantly wedged itself back into Neil’s chest. He looked at the Greenie then back to Andrew.

“No,” Neil said. “Not with him.”

Andrew seemed to understand. He held out the glass to Neil’s lips. It was strangely intimate. He felt his cheeks burn as Andrew tilted the glass. Thanks to the well made faucet, the water was cold, not warm. Neil gulped it down. It cleared the haziness just a little.

“Do you think you’ll make it?” Andrew set the glass down on the bedside table.

“I made it out of the Maze,” Neil answered, he licked his lips.

“And almost died in the process.”

“Almost.”

“Get the fuck up.”

Neil grinned at his ability to annoy Andrew so easily. He over estimated the strength he thought he had. As soon as he stood he felt woozy and light headed. He took deep breaths and counted in his head.

“Neil.”

“I’m fine,” his words slurred together.

Andrew’s glare was intense but he said nothing. It took Neil a while before he could move. They both made their way downstairs at a slow pace. Andrew was there with his arms slightly out stretched if Neil happened to fall.

A lot was happening outside. At the North door there were about twenty people huddled in a circle. Neil picked out Matt easily, standing in the crowd with his hands tangled in his hair. His eyes were red and puffy. Aaron was also there, but he was so short the top of his head would disappear and then pop back up again. Dan lay on the ground with Allison and Renee crouched by her side. Nicky was in the back talking to some girl he didn’t recognize. The three Runners were there with Kevin. They stood off to the side in their own circle. Kevin showed them something in his journal.

He didn’t see Seth. It worried him that he wasn’t around. Neil almost forgot there were people trying to banish him. Breaking one of the three rules was a clear advantage they had over him.

“Come on,” Andrew said.

The Glade was excruciatingly bright now. His blue eyes were sensitive to the light. Tears swelled the longer he stared at the crowd. He looked down at Andrew’s shoes as they walked.

They found their way to Neil’s hut, trying their best to avoid as many people as possible. He kept his hand over his exposed skin. Andrew let Neil inside first. Neil sat on his cot with a long sigh. The lumpy and thin mattress felt fucking amazing. Andrew stood in the doorway, blocking the entrance with his broad and muscular body. Neil’s eyelids were half closed. He was so tired he didn’t care that Andrew was still there.

“You’re wrong, you know,” Neil muttered, a little out of it. Andrew crossed his arms in defense. “I think we found something out there.”

Andrew glared, “Go to sleep.”

“Okay,” Neil mumbled. He slowly laid on his side with his hands in front of his chest. The stitches pulled and ached. “Thank you.”

“Shut up.”

Andrew left the moment Neil fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *pokes Andriel with a stick*  
Me: Do something.
> 
> Hello lovelies. So I posted this chapter and then deleted it cause I wasn’t happy. And now I’m actually okay with it. 
> 
> I thought this chapter would be the quick time out we all needed before shit hits the fan. 
> 
> Thank you for all the comments and kudos! I seriously appreciate everyone who takes the time to comment their excitement/feedback/thoughts. Thank you, thank you!!


	9. Gathering

Neil jolted awake and immediately wished he was still asleep. Everything hurt: his back, neck, arms, legs, and head. He took a second to take in his surroundings. The hut was fairly dark. A torch was lit about three yards from the doorway, casting long shadow across the floor.

His cot shook as the doors closed for the night. He shut his eyes and counted the seconds. It was a weird feeling knowing he was on the other side of those walls only twenty four hours ago. In the back of his mind he knew subconsciously that he was safe, that he was protected inside the Glade. Yet he couldn't stop the worry that crept into his bones. He waited until he heard the loud boom of the doors locking before sitting up.

He dropped his feet to the floor and rested the back of his hands on his knees. The pain was a weird kind of pulsing numbness radiating from his back and hands. He thought it was because his body was slowly shutting down, or maybe because his brain couldn't comprehend what happened. Either way, he was glad to be numb.

With the toe of his boot, he dragged his duffel from under the bed by its strap. Neil stared at it and contemplated leaving his scars exposed. Though the idea of it made his skin crawl. He slid off the mattress and lowered himself to the floor, keeping his back as straight as possible. It wasn't exactly fool proof. He felt the tape pull on his skin and the stitches struggled to hold.

Neil dug his pinkie in the small opening above the zipper and pushed it open. There was only one clean shirt left. He wanted to save it until he showered but that wasn't going to happen. Making sure no one was walking by, he quickly pulled the silk shirt over his head and slipped on the clean one. The collar covered his chest and the sleeves fell past his wrists. Satisfied, he shoved the black shirt in the duffel and pushed it under the cot.

"Oh," someone said behind him. "You're up."

Neil turned his head as far as his stiff neck allowed him. Nicky stood in the doorway with a bowl. He looked past him, Aaron and Andrew were no where to be seen.

"I brought you some soup," Nicky smiled and held up the steaming bowl.

"Thanks," Neil slowly rose from the floor, grimacing as he did.

He faced Nicky who was patiently waiting. Neil was about to take the soup, then remembered his bandages and dropped his arms to his sides.

"Actually," Neil started, "I'm not that hungry."

Nicky pulled his chin back and scrunched his eyebrows.

"You haven't ate since yesterday, right?" he asked.

Neil licked his dry lips. His stomach growled obnoxiously.

"It's, um," he held up his hands as an explanation.

Nicky looked down at them, clicked his tongue and said, "Well, why didn't you say anything?"

He stepped past Neil to the chair that was covered in Matt's things. He pushed everything off in one quick sweep of his hand. Dragging the chair over to Neil's bed, he set the bowl down on the wood and smiled at his accomplishment. Neil glanced at the clothes that had fallen on to the floor and back to Nicky. He gestured to the make shift table proudly.

"Thanks," Neil said again.

He sat down on his cot. Nicky sat across from him on Matt's. The spoon was difficult to hold. Eventually he found a comfortable way to grip it between his pinkie and ring finger. He slurped the chicken broth cautiously. Neil only tasted salt. He scrunched his noise. It was borderline inedible.

"So," Nicky said, fingers spread over Matt's crumpled blanket, "are you feeling any better?"

"How's Dan?" Neil quickly said, averting the attention away from himself. Nicky took the bait.

"The Serum worked. Aaron got there just in time," he squirmed uncomfortably. Neil waited for him to speak. "She just started the Changing."

As if on cue, a chilling scream cut through the distant grumbling of the Maze. Neil perked up right away. Dan screamed like she was being tortured. A cold sweat broke out under Neil's armpits.

"What's happening to her?" Neil asked after Dan quieted down.

Nicky shrugged helplessly, "She'll be out for a while. They always scream like that."

Neil stared uneasily at his soup. "Was Andrew like that?"

Nicky hesitated. He peered out the door like Andrew would be listening. When he judged the coast was clear, he leaned back, stretching out his legs comfortably. Neil tried not to be jealous of how Nicky could move without being in pain.

"It was different for him," Nicky picked at a thread on his shorts. "I was helping Arron at the time, he needed someone to clean the infirmary and I volunteered. Better than cleaning the bathrooms, right?" Neil didn't answer. "Anyway, Andrew never screamed. Whenever Arron tried to feed him or roll him over to check his back, Andrew would just ... beg. He kept saying please and to stop. You know Andrew, he doesn't let shit get to him, even before he was stung. He wasn't awake during any of it, obviously, but it seemed so real. Arron gave up eventually and he left him alone. Two days later Aaron went to check on him in the morning and he was gone. We looked everywhere. Even the Runners looked in the Maze."

"Where was he?" Neil asked.

Neil had a strange feeling that he was going behind Andrew's back. He reminded himself that they weren't friends. Andrew made that clear. It shouldn't matter.

"On the roof," Nicky shook his head. "He was standing on the edge. I tried getting his attention but he wasn't all there, you know? I don't even think he knew where he was. I didn't bother finding Arron and and ran up there myself. He looked so dead inside, you should've seen him. He was just miserable. I thought he was going to jump, so I literally pulled him back. And then it was like something clicked in his brain. He said my name and asked where Arron was." He crossed his arms and sighed, "It was weird."

"Why?"

"We never met before that."

Neil frowned, confused. "Then how did he know you?"

"Not sure, maybe he heard my name in his sleep or something," he shrugged. "Aaron told me the Serum gives you your memories back. Not all of them, I think. I don't know. No one talks about it. Especially not Andrew. Maybe we might have known each other. Then after all that he made me move in with him and Aaron."

Neil thought he didn't hear Nicky correctly at first. It seemed too easy, getting his memories back. All he had to do was be stung and then get the Serum. No, no. That's crazy.

"And you don't remember Andrew at all?" Neil asked.

"Nope," Nicky popped the P. "Well, he was the Runner's Keeper. So I knew of him."

Neil blinked, thrown off again. "He was their Keeper?"

"Yeah, for like, three and a half months? Julian, the other cute Runner, gave up his position a couple weeks after Andrew and Aaron got here. Then Kevin showed up," he tapped his chin as he tried to remember. "I'm pretty sure Andrew was stung that same week, and at Kevin's Gathering he made him Keeper and took over the Blood House."

Neil shut his eyes and pressed his forearm to his throbbing head. He groaned. There was still so much he didn't understand.

"I know," Nicky said. "It's a lot to take in."

"Yeah," Neil blinked slowly. "I think I need a break."

Nicky laughed and for the first time it sounded genuine.

Something small and black flew in the air and landed beside Neil. He flinched and looked for the source. Andrew stood outside. He wore black clothes which made him hard to see in the dark. His blonde hair acted like a beacon of light.

Nicky paled. He stuttered, "Andrew-"

Andrew held up his hand to shut him up. He spoke in a tone Neil couldn't judge, his expression masked, "Keep it on you."

Then he left.

"Shit," Nicky exhaled loudly. "How much do you think he heard?"

Neil didn't respond. He was too busy examining the small, three inch pocket knife. The handle was made out of dark wood and had subtle curves to fit comfortably in a person's grip. On the blade itself were two little metal studs on each side which was made to snap the blade open with a quick flick of his thumb. He used his pinky to flip the knife over. Right below the metal joint an A was carved in the wood, ruining the smooth glossy finish. Neil traced it with his finger nail and pictured Andrew taking the time to etch in his initials.

He pried the blade out from the holster. It felt smooth and the gears didn't grind despite it looking well used. Neil ran his fingertip down the cool metal. The thin edge pressed against his skin. He withdrew his hand and held it up to his chest, feeling the scars underneath his shirt. The longer he stared at the blade the more uncomfortable he got.

"Um," Nicky said, "what was that?"

Neil jerked his head up, completely forgetting about Nicky. "What?"

Nicky dropped his jaw, searching Neil's face for something. "You just won me new shoes," he said.

Neil didn't know what to say so he ate the rest of his soup as quickly as he could. When he was done, Nicky took it as a cue to leave and stacked the dishes in one hand. Before he walked out, he turned and snapped his fingers.

"Almost forgot," Nicky said. "Matt's calling for a Gathering before breakfast tomorrow."

Neil swallowed anxiously. "What for?"

Nicky rolled his eyes, "You, duh."

Alone in the dark, hearing Dan's screams and the groaning of the Maze, he couldn't stop his mind from wandering. Tomorrow, the Keepers would banish Neil. There was too much they had on him. Running into the Maze was the last straw. Even though he did save Dan, he feared that wouldn't be enough.

He shut his eyes and imagined Andrew's hand on his neck and thumb pressed under his ear. It soothed him for only a short amount of time. Going against his instincts, he rested his finger tips on the pocket knife. It was cold and smooth. A shudder ran down his spine, making him stiffen his shoulders. His stitches pulled but it was an after thought.

The woman's voice screamed at him, clawing at his mind and tearing him apart.

_Don't stop running_, she yelled. _Do you understand, Abram? Never stop!_

His fingers wrapped tightly around the handle. The bandages rubbed against his burns. He traced his thumb over the A.

_Abram_, she said. _Alex. Stephon. Chris. Hugo. Louis._

So many names. But never Nathaniel. Never Neil.

He smelled smoke and gasoline. He felt the heat on his face and tasted salt on his tongue.

Dan screamed again and Neil pressed his hands hard against his ears. His fresh scabs tore open, oozing blood. He didn't recognize the pain. Neil wanted her to shut up, both Dan and the woman. Every time she yelled it was like he was thrown back to the fire, the ocean, the bones, the rain and the bullets.

Only two memories. Two that repeated them selves over and over again. Each eating him away little by little.

-

Sleep never came to him that night. It was impossible. Dan finally lost her voice when dawn came. It didn't matter though, Neil was already lost inside his own mind. He had his head between his legs and stared numbly at the floor. The bandages covering his hands were tinted a reddish brown. There wasn't pain anymore, there wasn't anything.

Someone came and got him before the doors opened. Neil didn't hear their voice or feel their light tap on his shoulder. He followed them silently to Homestead, knife in his front pocket.

The Keepers were already awake and waiting in the foyer, sitting in the exact same spot. Except Dan was missing and Seth was beside Allison. Nicky was there too, for some reason, between Andrew and Aaron. Kevin sat on the middle of the staircase. Maybe he was keeping his distance or maybe he wasn't exactly welcomed there. Neil could relate. It was then he realized Renee was the one who brought him. She stepped around Neil to join the rest. There was an empty chair in front of the door for Neil to sit in. He didn't.

He ignored Andrew's intense hazel eyes and Seth's glare. He couldn't stand to look at Matt and his depressing state when he stood and cleared his throat.

"Since our leader, Dan, is physically unable to be here, I will stand in her place," Matt's voice cracked when he said her name. "I called this Gathering to discuss the Greenie that stands before us. As we all know, a lot has fucking happened in the past week and some of it is connected with Neil." Neil clenched his jaw. Matt continued, "Everyone will have the chance to speak their mind. So, please guys, don't talk over each other. Let's keep this as civil as possible. Okay, who would like to go first?"

Seth stood up, knocking his chair back as he did. Matt sighed and dropped into his seat. The side of his jaw had a mix of yellow and green bruising.

"This fucking shank is a murderer," Seth spat.

Anger spiked through the emptiness of Neil's chest. He couldn't contain himself, "I didn't kill Janie. She did that to herself."

"Neil," Matt said. Their eyes met. He shook his head then looked at Seth. "We can't judge what happened. He's innocent until proven guilty."

"Oh, bullshit," Seth threw up his hands. "There was a fucking knife in her chest, Matt."

"I know," Matt said. "But we weren't there."

Nicky raised his hand, "Um, we were."

Allison hummed, she held her chin in her hand, "Yes, lets trust the monsters. Andrew, care to confess anything? We all know how you love your knives."

The snide comment didn't phase Andrew. He sat quietly, never taking his eyes off Neil.

"It wasn't his," Aaron leaned forward on his elbows. The table creaked under the weight. "The knife was from the kitchen. Right, Matt?"

Matt sighed, clearly given up on the whole speak one at a time thing. "He's right. It was missing when we started lunch. I didn’t think much about it at the time.”

"Also," Aaron said, "Janie woke up from the Changing that morning. It's not completely out of the question that she would do something like this. It has happened before."

All heads turned to Andrew. In return, Andrew tilted his head and raised an eye brow.

"Maybe Neil didn't stab her," Aaron kept talking, "but he definitely didn't help her. I don't get it. He had the strength to lift up Dan and not Janie? Doesn't make sense."

_Fair point_, Neil thought.

Nicky's jaw dropped like he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "What are you talking about? We saw what happened. He wasn't any where near Janie. What could he have done? You know what? Let's ask him." He looked at Neil. "Neil, did you steal a knife from the kitchen and purposely chase Janie up a wall just to stab her?"

"No," Neil said through clenched teeth.

"See?" Nicky gestured to Matt's table. "He's innocent."

"Maybe," Aaron mumbled.

"So now you're fucking defending him?" Seth squinted at Aaron.

"I'm not defending shit," Aaron said. "Fuck off."

"Tell me to fuck off again and see what-"

"Andrew?" Matt interrupted.

"Janie killed her self," Andrew turned his head just enough to meet Matt's stare.

Matt nodded once, "Okay."

"Okay?" Seth and Aaron both spoke at the same time.

Neil was equally as shocked.

"Okay," Matt said more sternly. "There are no other witnesses we can call that saw anything before Neil got to Janie." He pointed his thumb to Andrew. "Their stories line up. Besides, I believe Andrew."

"I believe him as well," Renee said.

"Yeah, cause he'd probably beat the shit out of you if you didn't," Seth scoffed.

Renee opened her mouth to say something, probably to defend herself, but Matt cut her off.

"Moving on," he said. "Neil broke one of our most important rules. He went into the Maze, and on top of that, he went out at night. But he saved Dan's life. We all should be thanking him." Neil shifted uncomfortably under Matt's stare. "According to Kevin, they managed to kill five Grievers. That isn't something we should ignore."

Neil looked at Kevin and Kevin looked back, he shook his head no to tell Neil to keep quiet. They didn't kill them. He lied.

"He needs to be punished," it was Aaron who spoke. Neil pressed his pinkie to the knife in his pocket. "We need to set an example, show everyone that what he did isn't heroic, it's stupid."

"Any ideas?" Matt asked.

Aaron nodded, "Put him in the Slammer for a week with only bread and water. Let everyone know exactly why before they start acting just like this shank." Seth clapped his approval.

"I second that," Allison said, then looked at Neil. "Sorry, cutie." Seth scolded at the nickname.

Matt scribbled something on a piece of paper. "Noted," he said. "I agree with some sort of punishment. A week is a little much though, I recommend a night. He still has stitches that haven't healed and they could get infected."

"Seconded," Renee said. Matt wrote it down.

Matt turned to Kevin, "Alright, your turn."

Kevin walked down the stairs, making the rest wait to hear his opinion. He stood beside Neil and straightened his posture.

"I nominate Neil to be co-Keeper of the Runners," Kevin said.

The room fell quiet. Neil's stomach dropped. Andrew was standing now, too. But he wasn't staring at Neil, he was glaring at Kevin like he was one second away from breaking his neck.

Seth was the one to break the silence, "That's fucking ridiculous! Matt, he can't be serious."

"I'm serious," Kevin said.

Matt chewed on his thumb nail nervously, then dropped his arm at his side. “You'll have to wait until Dan wakes up then take it to her."

Kevin nodded.

"No, fuck no," Seth yanked his arm from Allison's hands and stormed around the table to stand in Kevin's personal space. Neil could feel the heat radiating off him. He lowered his voice so only Kevin and Neil could hear. "I know what you two are doing."

Kevin didn't blink but Neil stepped back.

"And what is that?" Kevin asked, mimicking Seth's whisper.

"Hey, speak up," Matt said. "No secrets."

Seth did, "Did everyone forget about that bastard upstairs? This isn't some coincidence. They planned this shit."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Aaron asked.

"I think they're spies for the people who put us here." He poked Kevin harshly in the chest. "I think two and three are up to something. Aren't you?"

Neil didn't understand the threat. Or why it made that fight or flight instinct jump out.

"You don't know what you're talking about," Kevin said, he voice never wavered but he clenched his fists.

"I don't? I went through the Changing, I know a lot more than you."

Neil's heart rate spiked, his breathing hitched. No one told him this. Why wouldn't they tell him this? If Janie remembered him, that meant Seth did too. Seth noticed Neil's panic and turned to him with a manic grin spread across his face. Neil pressed his back to the wall. He ignored the burning pull of his stitches. Seth stepped closer to Neil. Too close.

"Scared now, huh?" Seth snarled. His breath was fowl and hot. It suffocated Neil.

"Seth," Andrew warned.

Neil couldn't see past Seth but he knew Andrew was close by. Seth breathed heavily, like an animal that was about to attack. Then he thought better of it and backed off. Neil didn't move.

"You only went through the Changing because you did the same thing as Neil," Kevin said, loud enough for everyone to hear. "You're a pathetic hypocrite. You don't have the balls to be a Runner or a part of this council. You should have been Banished for what you've done." A vain on Seth's forehead bulged. Kevin spoke to the rest of the group, "You know what was the first thing Neil said to me after we killed those Grievers? He asked if he was a Runner. Even after he faced death, faced those fucking nightmares, he didn't give up like all of you. And here you all are, wanting to punish him for what? Saving a life? Saving Dan's life? What a fucking joke." He stepped between Seth and Neil. "And I suggest, Seth, that you shut the fuck up before I make you. Now, get out and let the adults talk."

Neil was surprised at the spine Kevin seemed to grow in only one night. Seth was stuck to his spot. He looked like a toddler who was just yelled at for doing something bad. His mouth closed and opened like he was going to say something else. Then he pushed past Kevin with his shoulder and headed to the door. But before he left, he turned back.

"Don't forget," he said. He nodded at Kevin, "I've seen him before. I tried warning you all the first day he got here that this would happen. Now look, there's another one." He waved his finger at Neil. "Whatever you two are doing, I'll put a stop to it. Kill you if I have to. You better watch your back."

His words hung in the air long after he left. Neil desperately wanted to leave, he wanted to run. He heard that woman's voice again.

_Move, Abram. Move!_

"Andrew," Nicky said slowly, "What does he mean?"

Kevin had his fists clenched as he stepped out of Andrew's way. Andrew stopped a foot from away from Neil, looking him up and down.

"Nothing," Andrew said.

Matt made his way over and looked over Andrew's head down at Neil, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Neil voice shook.

Aaron cleared his throat, bringing the attention to him, "Maybe he has a point. I mean, he has been through the Changing. What if they are spies? It would make sense, wouldn't it?"

"What's up your ass today?" Nicky put his hands on his waist and stared Aaron down. "Andrew went through the Changing too, you don't see him accusing people for being spies. Am I right or am I right?"

"Can I say something now?" Neil said before anyone else had a chance to agree with Aaron or Nicky. Matt gave him a curt nod. "I don't care what Seth thinks." _Lie._ "This Gathering is because of what I did in the Maze, not because of who I might or might not have been before I got here. Even if he's right, it doesn't matter now. I want to help Kevin, I want to find a way out of here. If you don't want me to, fine. But I don't regret going in that Maze. I'd do it again for any of you."

It was all a lie and he knew it. He wouldn't go back for just anyone. He only did it to prove himself to Kevin. Matt played a part, sure. But the rest, the survival, the running, was for himself. His careful wording had an affect on a few of the Keepers, like Matt and Nicky.

They stared at him like they wanted to hug him. Neil pushed back the guilt. It wasn't his fault if they believed him. Aaron looked skeptical, which was fair considering what he said. Allison twirled her hair around her fingers, staring at Neil and Kevin. He didn't know what she was thinking. Renee was ... Renee. Andrew returned to his chair. Everyone else followed his actions, sitting back down.

"This is what I recommend," Matt said. "Neil will spend one day in the Slammer, which will be his punishment. We make an example out of him, tell the Gladers that no matter who you are, actions will have consequences." Except Andrew or Seth, Neil wanted to say. "We elect Neil as a Runner, effective immediately. We'll hold another Gathering if Dan agrees to go through with Kevin's proposal." He looked down at his notes, "Last chance, anyone else?"

"I want to be a Runner," Andrew said plainly.

Everyone stared wide eyed. Neil didn't know how to react.

Nicky reached to touch Andrew's arm but held back. "Are you sure?" he asked.

"Kevin?" Andrew put his feet up on the table. "Up to you."

The Adams Apple on Kevin's throat bobbed as he swallowed. He nodded.

"Great," Andrew clasped his hands behind his head and balanced on the back legs of the chair.

Neil didn't think it was great. What if he was stung again? He shook his head at Andrew, "What are you-"

"Shut up."

He pressed his lips together.

Matt sighed for the one hundredth time, "Okay. Time to vote."

"We can't without all the Keepers present," Allison said.

"Come on, Allison," Nicky rolled his eyes. "I think we all know what Seth thinks."

"Why is he even here?" she looked around her table. Renee shrugged.

Matt rubbed his hands over his face, he looked a thousand percent more exhausted than when they started.

"Let's just vote," Matt said. "Renee, you start."

"I agree with Matt," she said.

Andrew agreed next, then Kevin. Nicky did as well, though Neil didn't think it counted. Allison said no, not surprising. Aaron was last. He met eye contact with his brother, and a moment later he said yes.

Neil relaxed and dropped into the chair. He let out a raspy breath, the nerves slowly fading. He was a Runner. Finally.

"Your punishment begins tomorrow morning before breakfast," Matt told him.

Neil wasn't listening. His body buzzed with excitement and pride. He only had a few precious seconds to bask in the glory before Dan screamed. It traveled down the stairs and into the foyer. Allison pressed her hands to her ears. Nicky flinched. Matt reacted quickly, sprinting up the stairs. The curtain flapped behind him.

Her screaming continued. No one moved from their seats. Neil stared at the door to the infirmary. Then the screams morphed into soft sobbing. He saw Matt's shoes appear first, he moved sluggishly, dragging his toes across each step. At the bottom of the stairs he wiped his watery eyes. Renee rushed to his side and whispered something to him. Aaron was waiting to see if he should go check on her or not.

"She's awake," Matt announced. His voice made Neil's chest tighten. He sounded miserable. Aaron stood up, Matt waved him off. "She doesn't want to see you, or me."

"Why? What did she say?" Aaron asked, brows scrunched in concern.

"She asked for Kevin and Neil."

Everyone looked at them.

The nerves were back, and they churned heavily in the pit of his stomach. Reluctantly, he followed Kevin up the stairs. His hands shook at his sides and he couldn't clench them to stop. Kevin knocked on the door frame before entering.

Neil expected ... he didn't know. He expected a dead girl. And Dan was pretty close to one. She sat in the bed beside the Newbie, facing him. Her hair and clothes were damp with sweat. In the sunlight her dark skin glistened. There were deep bruises around her arms from the vines. She didn't acknowledge the two boys as they stepped into the room.

"Dan?" Kevin asked softly. "It's Kevin. Neil's here too. Matt said you wanted to see us."

Dan turned her head. Bloodshot eyes bore into Neil's. "Yeah," she croaked, throat raspy from screaming.

Kevin stood at the foot of her bed, he glanced wearily at the Newbie. Neil waited at the doorway. He wanted to move, but his legs wouldn't allow him. Dan slowly laid back down. She winced and coughed.

"How are you feeling?" Kevin asked.

Dan choked on her words, coughing and sputtering. "Everything's," she wheezed, "going to change." She breathed deeply.

After hearing that Neil found himself moving across the room to Dan's side.

"What's going to change?" Neil whispered, afraid to raise his voice.

She looked up at him with eyes full of sorrow. They watered and her bottom lip quivered.

"I'm sorry," she blinked, a tear fell and dripped onto the pillow. "I'm sorry. We didn't know where you were. They kept you away from us."

The scars burned under his shirt.

"What are you talking about?" Kevin asked.

Dan looked at Kevin, "I know who you are. I know who he is." She turned her head to the Newbie. He was still asleep, oblivious to the chaos he was causing. "I've seen it. I've seen everything. Where we came from. The Flare."

Neil blinked away the startling memory of flames and smoke.

The Flare.

"Who am I?" Kevin gripped the bed frame, knuckles white.

Neil asked a question of his own, "What's the Flare?"

Dan stared at the ceiling, eyes distant and clouded. "It's horrible. Why would they want us to remember? Why can't they leave us alone? I just want to be left alone."

"You're not making any sense," Kevin shook his head. "What do you remember?"

Her eyes locked with Kevin's. "Riko-" suddenly she grabbed her own throat with both hands. She made terrifying gurgling sounds, her feet kicked wildly.

Kevin backed away so quickly he knocked over a chair and fell onto the floor. Dan rolled to her side. She struggled like someone else was choking her. Her eyes bulged and she bit down on her tongue.

Neil somehow found his voice, "Matt! Aaron! Get in-"

Andrew flew in before he could finish the sentence. He made a quick assessment of Kevin panicking on the floor and Dan choking on the bed. He stalked over to Neil and grabbed the back of his neck, dragging him over to the window. Aaron and Matt rushed past them to Dan. Aaron tried pulling at Dan's arms but she wouldn't give.

"Dan!" Aaron yelled. "Let go!" He pressed his hands down against her shoulders, pinning her down with his weight. "Grab her legs!"

Neil was frozen with Andrew by his side. Andrew's shoulders were tense, he looked away from Dan and stared out the window. Thankfully Matt was somewhat in the right state of mind. He grabbed Dan's furiously kicking legs. Matt held her down, but not easily. Her foot sprang back and slammed against his stomach. He gasped but didn't let go. Aaron pressed his knee on her chest and grabbed at her clasped hands. Saliva bubbled at her mouth, her eyes rolled back in her head.

"Let go!" he yelled again. "You're killing yourself!"

Aaron’s muscles worked tirelessly. He wasn't as strong as his brother. It took an eternity but he was able to pry her fingers off her neck. He held her wrists down firmly above her head. Her body jerked up and wretched. She screamed her throat raw. Aaron was yelling and Matt was crying. Dan thrashed her head side to side. She started sobbing then, sinking into the mattress. They didn't let her go.

No one moved for a while. Not until Dan was quiet and she blinked up at the ceiling.

"Babe?" Matt croaked. "It's me."

Dan looked down at Matt, eyes drooping. She whispered, "Matt."

Matt released her ankles with a soft yelp and pulled Dan in his arms. Aaron stepped away from the bed, panting and massaging his bicep.

"I'm sorry," Dan muttered. Neil could barely hear her. "I'm sorry. I didn't know-"

"You were choking yourself," Matt kissed the top of her head. "You scared the shit out of me."

Dan fisted Matt's shirt, "It wasn't me."

"Shh," Matt rubbed her back. "It's okay."

Neil turned away. He shouldn't be seeing this. He faced Andrew, his presence calmed him somewhat. Andrew was still looking out into the Glade, he squeezed Neil's neck.

"Out," Aaron said. "Everyone, out. Give her some space." He kicked Kevin's foot. "Get out."

Kevin was still in the middle of a panic attack. His chest rose up and down quickly and he looked sick. He stared at Neil and back to Dan before standing.

Aaron glared at Andrew and Neil. "Out," he said.

Kevin made his way to the stair case with Neil and the twins following close behind.

"Kevin," Dan said, still in Matt's arms. The four of them stopped and looked back. "Protect the maps."

They left her and Matt. In a single file line they walked down the stairs quietly. The other Keepers were still there, waiting. Kevin walked out of Homestead without as much of a glance towards them. All eyes turned to Neil and Andrew. Andrew squeezed his neck and pressed his thumb under his ear.

Neil heard her voice.

_Run._

He listened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there was a lot of dialogue in this chapter, there wasn’t really any other way to get around that. I hope everything feels as smooth as I think it does.
> 
> The next chapter will start to pick up the intensity/action again. I’m trying to build the Maze Runner plot a bit more before all the shit goes down. Stay tuned!!
> 
> Big news! (Not really) I just got a tumblr! I don’t know how to add hperlinks but if you want to follow me my username is uberimmortal
> 
> Thank you for your comments and kiddos!! Keep ‘em coming!


	10. The Ending

Black.

All he saw was black. From the tiled floors to the ceiling. For a second, Neil thought he was back in the Box, except there were no chains rattling or metal screeching beneath him. He realized it was a memory, almost as clear as the others he had. He felt along the edges of the floor as he tried to find an exit. There was nothing but a soft breeze blowing from a vent in one corner. He didn't remember how he got there, or why. He didn’t remember anything.

Except for the darkness.

He pressed his hands hard against his eyes until he saw spots. Focusing on the small bits of color, he pulled his trembling lip between his teeth and bit down, breaking through skin. Blood coated his tongue and he swallowed.

_Riko_, he thought. _Riko, Riko, Riko._

His hands inched upward, tangling his fingers through his hair. Both of his eyes throbbed, though he kept them shut as if he would still be in that room when he opened them. The roots of his hair tugged harshly at his scalp. The fog that swirled in his mind thickened, it poured through the vent and filled the room.

"Riko," he said out loud, thinking that maybe it would trigger something.

The more he forced himself to think, the more angry he became. The black faded to a gray, and then to green. He blinked slowly, his ears ringing. He lowered his hands to his lap. His knees dug into the damp soil. Overgrown pieces of grass brushed up against his leg.

Neil was sitting somewhere in the Dead Heads with his shoulder pressed against a young tree. He pinched his arm, hard enough to bruise. The bright sunlight made his eyes water. He blinked furiously. However long he sat there, he didn't know for sure. It could have been minutes or hours.

A sharp rock hit the back of his shoulder, narrowly missing his stitches, and bounced onto the ground where it rolled down a small hill under a bush. Neil looked behind him.

Andrew bent down and picked up another pebble with his fingers. He straightened his back, looked Neil dead in the eye, and threw the rock at him with a half assed accuracy. Neil managed to turn his head just in time. It hit the tree with a small thud.

Neil started, "What the-"

Another rock flew past his face.

"Andrew," Neil glared at him.

Andrew stared back until he ultimately found what he was looking for. He let a rock slide from his fingertips onto the forest floor. “Not going to attack me this time?" Andrew asked.

"Who the hell is Riko?" Neil said instead.

The change in Andrew's body language was small, but Neil noticed how his shoulders stilled even as he breathed deeply. He noticed how Andrew's fingers felt along the edges of the bands. Over the past few days Neil was slowly getting better at reading Andrew. Except the pages were filled with another language Neil wasn't fluent in. He could only make out a few words if he focused hard enough. It drove him insane.

"I don't know," Andrew said.

"Just," Neil stood, a mix of anger and frustration made his voice crack. "Just tell me."

They weren't near each other, about a few yards away. Still, it was like Neil was being crushed by Andrew. It felt like his arms were wrapped around Neil's ribs and were squeezing so hard that his head would pop off.

Andrew didn't say anything right away, he tapped his index finger against his throat and shook his head. Neil looked in the trees. Sometimes he would forget that he was being watched, it would slip his mind. Was Riko watching now? Was he enjoying this?

"You remember everything?" Neil looked back to Andrew, unable to see through the mask he put on again. "Like Dan?"

"Yes."

Neil swallowed. He contemplated what to say next. It was eating at him, the memories of fire and rain. "The Flare-"

Andrew moved so quickly Neil didn't have time to jump back. Calloused fingers covered Neil's mouth before he could say anything else. His eyes widened, more surprised than afraid.

Neil's back was pressed against the tree with Andrew's other hand gripping his bicep. Where their skin touched felt like fire, low and steady, flickering its way across Neil’s entire body. The heat engulfed them both in some sort of hot, sweaty cacoon of silent agreement. No, not just an agreement. Respect, acceptance, or...

Or.

Whatever _this_ was felt familiar. That fire danced in the pit of his stomach until it burned so brightly that he had to get away. Neil turned his head to the side, causing Andrew's fingers to brush over his lips and across his jaw. Andrew's hand found its way to Neil's neck, where he could defiantly feel his frantic pulse.

"No more running," Andrew said. His fingers snaked their way into Neil's hair.

Neil furrowed his brows and forced himself to look in Andrew's eyes. Something must have burned inside him as well, his pupils were blown out and his lips were slightly parted. Neil didn't understand.

"I'm a Runner," Neil said. "So are you, or did you forget?"

Andrew clenched and unclenched his jaw, "No more running from your problems. It's getting annoying."

"What are my problems?" Neil asked.

Every time they talked Neil was always one step behind, even when it was about himself. He thought he knew himself better than anyone, or at least that's how it was supposed to be.

"Getting out of the Maze," Andrew slid his hands away from Neil. He crossed his arms.

Neil missed the warmth, "Now you believe there's a way out?"

"No," Andrew eyes glossed over, the same way Dan's did.

Neil couldn't think of a suitable way to respond, so he slowly pushed himself off the tree, careful to not spook Andrew while he was in this odd state of mind. His stitches throbbed and the bandages were crusted and stiff. He tried his best to hide his grimace.

"You look like shit," Andrew noted.

"Thanks," he grumbled. If he truly looked as bad as he felt, he couldn't imagine what Andrew thought of him.

"You need to shower."

Neil wiped his sleeve on his sweaty forehead. "Yeah," he said. "I don't..." He swallowed nervously and avoided Andrew's gaze. "My clothes are dirty."

It was a good excuse. Andrew had seen some of his scars, and maybe he would understand without the white lie. Neil refused to risk it. He hated knowing Andrew saw as much as he did.

Andrew said, "Give them to Nicky, he'll take care of them."

"Okay." Neil hesitated following Andrew out of the Dead Heads. He stumbled over his feet to catch up. "I'm sorry, about last night. I shouldn't have asked Nicky about that-"

"Stop."

Neil shut his mouth. He hurried over to his hut, looking behind him just in case Andrew tagged along. He didn't.

He took his time gathering his dirty clothes. The pressure stung his hands. He tried not to think about it too much. Neil wandered around looking for Nicky, Gladers gave him and his pile of smelly laundry weird looks. About five minutes later, he spotted a tall boy with dark hair near the West door.

Nicky changed from earlier that morning. Changed was a vague description. Nicky simply took off his shirt and only had on shorts that were obviously shorter than how most of the boys wore them. He was talking to a girl, who was almost as tall as Andrew and had darker skin than Dan. She smiled as Neil approached, her teeth white and perfect. Her thick curled hair bounced as she shifted her weight from foot to foot. Nicky turned his head, probably wondering why she stopped mid conversation. His smile was even brighter than hers.

"Neil!" Nicky said excitedly. "Where were you?"

"Um," Neil frowned, "with Andrew."

"Shit," the girl said to Nicky, dumbfounded, "you weren't kidding."

Neil ignored her, "Andrew said to give my clothes to you."

"Of course he did," Nicky rolled his eyes.

"I can wash them myself. I don't know where-"

"Shut your perfect mouth," Nicky shook his head. "It's my job, don't worry. Besides this gives me an excuse to not clean the showers."

"Thank you."

"I'm Rev," she held out her hand. Her smile faltered when she saw Neil's occupied arms. "Oh, sorry."

"It's fine," Neil said, keeping his distance.

"Aw, look at you," Nicky grinned. "Making new friends."

The word friends set something off inside Neil.

"Okay," he said. "I'm going to take a nap, so..."

"Right, right," Nicky grabbed the clothes. He wrinkled his nose. "Didn't Matt get you a basket? You know what, never mind. No one uses them anyway. I'll see you at lunch, Rev, if Aaron doesn't show up."

"See you," Rev waved as Nicky walked away. Once he was gone she said, "Runner, huh?"

Neil looked at her, wondering if this was going to be a problem or not. He took in how she was dressed then, shorts and a tank top with an orange bandanna tied around her bicep. His fingers pushed through his hair, and when his bangs fell back into his eyes he huffed.

"Neil?" Rev cleared her throat awkwardly.

He blinked, "Sorry. I'm tired." He was about to leave, then said, "It was nice to meet you."

"You too."

Neil speed walked back to the safety of his bed and hut. When he finally rested his head on the pillow and shut his eyes for what seemed like seconds, a knock on the door woke him up.

He blindly reached for the door and pushed it open, still in the same position he fell asleep in. The sunlight never came pouring inside, and his curiosity made him look. Outside it was cool and dark, the doors closed and torches spitting out ash that carried in the wind. Neil was incredibly confused, he didn't know what time it was or what day.

His bones cracked as he sat up. It was that kind of ache that could only be achieved by a dead sleep.

"Morning, sunshine," Nicky chuckled, dropping a stack of folded clothes on the end of Neil's bed. Neil reached out and felt the cotton. It was a little damp, he didn't care.

"Thank you," Neil croaked. Sleep made his voice thick and musky.

"I bet that was a good ass nap," Nicky snorted. "Matt said he came and grabbed a few things and you didn't even notice."

"I was tired."

"I can tell. Well, you missed dinner but I'm sure there's some left overs in the kitchen," Nicky pointed behind him in the vague direction Homestead was.

Neil hadn't ate for the whole day and he was practically starving. His stomach groaned loudly. "Okay," he said. It was awkward standing with the two of them in such a small space. Nicky was tall, while not as big as Matt, he still took up a lot of room. "Is Dan still in the infirmary?"

"I think she's back with the girls. Matt's over there too."

"Okay." Neil figured he could have asked where there was. Ultimately he decided it wasn't important.

He poked under the cot with his foot until he felt the strap of his duffel. Nicky noticed the struggle and bent down.

"Here, let me-"

"No," Neil panicked. He dragged the duffel away from Nicky's hands. "I've got it." And he did.

It was painful and took more energy out of him then he cared to admit. But he picked it up himself and stuffed the clean clothes inside. He looped the strap on one shoulder instead of across his chest like he usually would. Nicky watched with a weird look on his face.

"What?" Neil snapped.

"Nothing, nothing," he raised his hands in surrender. "I'll see you tomorrow." He winked and made his way out of the hut.

Neil waited a few minutes before leaving as well. It was mostly quiet, only a few Gladers were out and about. The Maze groaned every so often, it sent a shiver down his spine that stung his stitches.

First, he went to Homestead. The kitchen was somewhere on the first floor, or so he had thought. When he only found a locked door hidden behind the staircase he gave up. He walked past the two tables, momentarily stopping to pick up the picture frame.

The photo had not aged well based on the curled edges and faded ink. In the middle of the picture, dressed in an all black suit was a man. He had hooded eyes and stark black hair. Wrinkles engraved his face and he held a cane in his left hand. The desk behind him was empty of any personal belongings. There wasn't a glimpse of a smile on his lips or shine in his eyes. He stared at Neil like he was physically there in front of him. Neil half expected him to raise the cane and strike him with it.

He put the photo face down, his heart racing and blood pumping in his ears. There was fear, rooted deep in his soul that he didn't know was there earlier. It grew and wrapped around his bones, as if daring him to move.

For a while, he was stuck in the foyer. Fear turned into terror and terror turned into an unimaginable horror. He felt eyes on him from every direction, boring into his skin. He wanted to move, to leave the presence of that man. Sweat collected on his hairline. He raised a trembling hand to wipe it away.

He stepped forward because that was the only think that kept him from falling into the waters of forgotten memories. The curtain at the top of the stairs was the only thing blocking him. Neil pushed it aside.

The infirmary was quiet and dark. Neil stumbled around until he bumped into the cupbords. He opened them as quietly as he could to not disturb the sleeping man only a few feet away. There were bandages, gauze, tape, creme, and other random things. He hurried so he could shower and get this shit over with.

Thankfully, the supplies didn't take up much space in his duffel bag. He hoisted the bag on his shoulder, satisfied with the loot.

A familiar sound of a blanket moving made Neil stop dead in his tracks.

_Jean._

Neil jerked so hard his hip hit the corner of a counter, causing him to twist his back violently. The sudden action made his stitches burn and he fumbled to keep himself upright. His hip throbbed. He bit down on his knuckle to keep from crying out.

_It's Jean. Listen to me._

His head buzzed with French words that weren't his own. The voice's accent thick and heavy, as clear as day. Neil looked at the bed where the man was still sleeping soundly. He looked to the windows and to the staircase. Nothing. No one.

_I'm forgetting already. I need to wake up. We need to pass the Trials, we have to end this. Nathaniel. We have to._

Neil ran. He tripped down the stairs and slammed his shoulder into the wall. Sprinting to the exit, the curtain slapped him in the face as he flew outside. Cool air licked his sweaty skin. He ran to the bathrooms, banging the door shut behind him.

He hoped the hot water would tame his nerves, it didn't. He begged for the soap to rub away the French and his aching headache, it didn't. Even the pain of replacing his bandages couldn't keep him from shaking. Neil brushed his teeth until his gums bled, spitting red into the sink and watching it swirl down the drain.

Once clean, he circled around the Glade until his shoes were dragging in the dirt. He fell asleep against the East wall, near the Tree Groove. He dreamt of tattoos and black canes. He dreamt of French and English, of the names Jean and Nathaniel.

-

"Neil," someone kicked his foot. It was Andrew, Neil recognized the annoyance hidden in his flat tone. "Wake up."

Neil squinted at Andrew, who stood silhouetted by the morning sun. The doors were still closed beside them. He pushed himself unsteadily onto his feet. The back of his pants were slightly damp from the soil and fresh dew that coated the grass.

"Breakfast?" Neil asked. He was past starving now. Andrew nodded.

They were early, so they waited near the serving hut. Neil bounced on the balls of his feet and tapped his fingers against his leg. He kept glancing at Homestead and the windows of the infirmary. He felt like he was waiting for something, for Jean.

"What's wrong with you?" Andrew asked.

Neil instantly stopped his nervous ticks. "Nothing," he said.

"Neil-"

At that moment the Cooks exited Homestead with platters piled high with bacon, eggs, potatoes, corn, and bread. Neil sighed. This time he didn't refuse the bacon, much to Andrew's dismay. When they gathered their food, the doors boomed and shook the ground.

On their way to the Box, elbows and shoulders brushing every so often, Neil let his thoughts wander.

Maybe he was crazy. He had heard that woman's voice countless times before, this was probably the same. Though it didn't feel the same. It felt... like an invasion of privacy.

"Sit," Andrew said, sitting on the Box and staring up at Neil.

Neil squeezed his plate instinctively. He did as he was told. Neil forced himself to eat slowly. He savored each bite.

"Seth is missing," Andrew said after a while.

Neil choked and coughed on a piece of bacon. "What?" he said after he swallowed dryly.

Andrew looked at him, "Allison couldn't find him this morning and no one has seen him since yesterday."

"I don't understand. This place is small, how could he be missing?"

Andrew shrugged one shoulder, Neil noticed how he favored his left arm that morning. "Who cares. If he went in the Maze last night, the Runners will find his body soon."

"You think he went in the Maze?"

"Either that or a few of his buddies are hiding him somewhere. We'll find him."

Neil tore his bread in half, "A little disappointing, isn't it? I thought Kevin's little speech would change his mind or something."

Andrew scoffed, "Fuck Kevin."

"Hey guys," Matt interrupted. They turned their heads to see Matt strolling over to them. He looked a lot better than the day before. The bags under his eyes were almost gone and his clothes were clean. He had on a huge warm smile that made Neil want to smile back. So he did, it was small and half hearted but the reaction it got out of Matt said otherwise. "Ready, Neil?”

"Yeah," Neil said. He set the empty plate aside and pushed himself off the Box. "Andrew, could you-" Andrew waved him off. "Thanks."

Matt led the way to the Slammer with Neil close by his side.

"Sleep okay?" Matt asked.

"Uh, yeah. Andrew woke me up."

Matt nodded, "I told him where you were at when you weren't in bed last night."

"Oh."

They stopped in front of the Slammer. Matt bent down to untie the rope, he lifted the entrance for Neil.

"I put some blankets in there for you, and some paper. Trust me," Matt raised his hand, "you're going to be bored as shit."

Neil accepted his fate and crawled in the tiny trench. The blankets were sprawled out neatly with a few pieces of white paper and a pencil in the corner. Matt tied the rope.

"Sorry about this," he leaned on the vines with one arm.

"It's okay," Neil reassured him.

"Okay," Matt's stood up and gave the vines a good few pats. "Have fun, dude."

-

The first few hours were excruciatingly long. Neil laid down on his side for most of it, but when his arm started going numb he sat against the dirt wall and vines.

He picked up the pencil, which was shaved down to a few inches and the eraser was basically non existent. With one paper balanced on his knee, he wondered what to write. Neil dragged the graphite across the paper, drawing loose swirls until he could come up with something.

Neil sketched two stick figures running, one taller than the other. He drew large walls behind them and dark smudges with curled tails and pointed legs. On one of the stick figures head, Neil traced a two in the center. 

"Knock, knock."

Neil quickly hid the silly drawing behind his back. Nicky was standing in front of the slammer with Neil's lunch. He untied the smaller hole with a practiced hand and pushed the plate inside.

For lunch that day was a plain ham sandwich, mashed potatoes and corn. Neil took a bite of the sandwich. Nicky sat on the ground.

"Good?" Nicky asked.

Neil agreed in between bites. They sat in silence as he ate.

"The Runners went back out this morning. Everything seems to be back to normal," Nicky said. He cleared his throat, “Seth hasn't showed up yet but we're all keeping an eye out. I would avoid Allison if I were you. She's acting like a fucking bitch."

"Her boyfriend's missing," Neil said.

Nicky sighed, "I guess." After an awkward pause, he said, "Hey, Neil?"

"Yeah?"

"Is it weird to feel homesick without remembering your home?"

Neil tensed. He hadn't thought of having a home at all in the past week or so. The idea of it seemed unreal.

"I don't know," Neil said.

"I miss my parents," Nicky leaned against the vines, back facing Neil as he looked up at the clear blue sky.

"Do you remember your parents?" Neil asked.

"Not at all. It's stupid, I know. But I still miss them, wherever they are. Andrew tells me that I shouldn't think about it, because what kind of parents would let their kids be in this place? He's right, probably. Then I keep thinking, like, what if they don't know where I am? What if they're looking for me out there? I bet if they knew what I was going through, they'd come and get me."

Neil stared at his bandaged hands as he listened to Nicky. He couldn’t imagine someone caring about him the way Nicky could. He felt a little jealous of Nicky’s fake family.

"Do you ever think about your parents?" Nicky asked.

"No," Neil said.

Nicky fell quiet after that. Neil was sure he was going to leave until he saw Nicky lift his hand and wipe his nose.

"I bet they're worried about you," Neil said, trying his best to comfort Nicky.

"Yeah?" Nicky sniffed.

"Sure."

"I bet your parents are too."

Neil tensed his shoulders. He didn't believe that for a second.

Nicky pushed himself onto his knees and smiled at Neil, though it was softer. "Thanks," he said. Neil looked away from Nicky’s watering eyes. Nicky took it as a sign to leave.

Alone, Neil dug out the knife from his pocket. He traced the A with his finger nail over and over again, memorizing each jagged cut.

-

A few minutes after the doors closed, he spotted Dan walking towards him. He stared, stunned. She was looked a thousand percent better. Her skin was back to its healthy color, her eyes didn’t have any blood vessels, and she seemed, well, alive. A thin jacket and pants covered the bruises on her skin.

“Still alive in there?” Dan joked, she untied the rope and lifted the vines just enough for Neil to crawl through.

Neil quickly shook off the surprise. “How are you feeling?” he asked while stretching out his sore muscles.

“Honestly?” her shoulders slumped. “Like complete shit.”

“You looked like it yesterday,” he agreed. Dan glared. “Um, no offense.”

She motioned Neil to follow her.

“About that talk we had,” she looked at Neil. “Keep it to yourself, okay? I don’t want any of these shanks getting into business they don’t need to be.”

Neil nodded. “I understand.”

Dan had her strength back, and it showed in how she walked and talked. She was a leader, she was what held this place together. Without her, Neil was sure the Glade would be up in flames in a matter of days. Neil respected her and her courage. She was the first Glader, she ran the Maze, she survived a Griever sting, and she also survived the memories that came with it.

She grabbed Neil’s bicep, stopping them before they reached the serving hut which was currently passing out dinner. Neil let her hold onto him. For comfort, or maybe for a little bit of strength that she couldn’t make on her own. Whatever the reason, Neil gave it to her.

“It was awful, Neil,” she said, her eyes hard. “When I tried to talk about it, something triggered in me, stopped me from sharing anything else. Now it’s fading, a lot of it.”

Neil nodded slowly, “You mentioned me and Kevin. Why?”

“Kevin was with the Creators. He was helping them.”

“Helping?” he looked around them to see if anyone was listening.

“I’m not sure, it’s blurry now. You-“ she swallowed and squeezed harder. “I shouldn’t risk it. I don’t know what I can say.”

Neil’s heart dropped. He wanted to force it out of her.

“Okay,” he said.

“Go get some dinner, Greenie. You have a big day tomorrow,” she forced a smile. “Don’t let Kevin get under your skin.”

“I think it’s too late for that,” he muttered. Dan tilted her head back and laughed.

The food was better now that Matt was back in the kitchen. Neil ate in his hut alone after letting Andrew know he needed to go over a few things for tomorrow. Andrew responded by joining Nicky and Aaron.

With a full belly, he laid back in his cot listening to the constant chatter of the Glade. His body buzzed with anxiety. Tomorrow he was training with Kevin.

-

Neil was woken by Kevin shinning a flashlight in his face. He motioned Neil to put on his shoes and left the hut. Matt was asleep on his stomach with his feet hanging off the end. Neil pulled on a pair of shorts and shoes before meeting Kevin outside. They walked to Homestead, weaving through Gladers that slept on the ground.

They didn’t turn the lights on, instead they used the flashlight to avoid tripping over chairs. Kevin pulled a ring of keys from his backpack, he stuck the gold one in the locked door by the stairs. He swung it open to reveal a pitch black hall. He flicked a switch. Electricity hummed then multiple bulbs flickered to life, illuminating a concrete stair case down to a small room.

Kevin went first, he had to turn his feet slightly to fit comfortably. In the basement there were cardboard boxes stacked as high as the ceiling. Some were labeled as shoes, clothes, paper, backpacks, and other miscellaneous items. In one corner was a pile of ropes. A wooden door to the left was kept secure by three different locks. The basement was cramped and dusty, but relatively organized.

“What shoe size are you?” Kevin asked. He squeezed through a stack of chairs to reach a box labeled shoes. He dropped it on the floor and opened it. Inside were a dozen or two pairs of sneakers.

Neil bent down and pulled back the flap of his combat boots. The tag was blank except for, Mens: 7.

“Seven,” Neil said.

Kevin looked at him questioningly, then dug through the box. He went through quite a few pairs before finding the correct size. Neil took the shoes carefully. They were brand new and bright orange with a white stripe on the side.

“Try them on,” Kevin pulled another box down. “You’ll get blisters if they’re not the right size.”

Neil kicked his boots off and slid his feet in the sneakers. They were too clean to be worn by him. His dirty socks and worn out clothes clashed harshly with the orange. He pressed his thumb over his toes to feel how much room he still had. Then he ran in place, bounced a little, and stretched out his ankles. They were perfect.

“Here,” Kevin tossed Neil a black plastic watch. “Wear it at all times. If you lose track of time, you die. Understand?”

“Yes,” Neil said. He ran his thumb over the cool glass. He clipped the watch onto his left wrist.

“Here’s your backpack,” Kevin held out a similar looking backpack to his. Neil took it. He unzipped each pocket and checked inside. It was small. “You’ll keep a notebook in there. Your water bottle, lunch pack, and health kit.” Kevin handed the last item to Neil. He checked inside the plastic case. There were a few bandaids and a roll of gauze. Neil stuffed it inside the largest pocket. “You’ll wear compression shorts every day under your clothes. I don’t care if you wear pants as long as it doesn’t slow you down. I’ll bring you new clothes tomorrow.”

Kevin continued to talk as he unlocked the other door, “We meet every morning at five in the kitchen. If you’re late, we leave without you and you’re off the team.” He opened the door, “Pick one.”

He stepped aside to let Neil look in the large walk-in closet. There were dozens of weapons. Metal spikes, wooden spikes, bow and arrows, spears, bundles of barbed wire. On one wall a table was covered with knifes in various sizes. Pocket knives, switch blades, cleavers, saws, daggers, and, shockingly, swords.

“Why do you have this?” Neil stepped away from the knives.

“Just in case.”

“I’m good,” he shook his head.

Kevin glared. “You’ll be out there on your own soon. If you see another Griever, what will you do? Do you think you could outrun them again?”

“I did the first time.”

Kevin grabbed a medium sized dagger with a rubber handle, the sheath had two straps that could attach to a leg or arm. He shoved the dagger into Neil’s chest.

“Don’t make me regret this,” Kevin glared. He turned around and slammed the door shut.

After the locks were in their correct places, Kevin marched up the stairs. Neil hurried after. He slipped the dagger in the backpack and strapped it around his chest. It hurt, but he doubted Kevin would care.

Dawn was just beginning to break, the sky turned into a dull blue. They walked to the concrete building in front of the South door.

As they came closer, Neil spotted a short blonde leaning on the building. Andrew watched them approach, he raised his hand to his mouth and took a long drag from a cigarette. He held the smoke in his lungs for a few seconds before slowly exhaling. The smell knocked Neil back. He coughed, which was a little exaggerated but the smoke made him slip back to a painful memory of fire and bones. Neil kept his distance to gain his composure. Andrew spared him a curious look.

“What are you doing?” Kevin stopped a few feet in front of Andrew. Andrew dragged his eyesup and down Kevin. Neil wanted to know how he got a cigarette.

Andrew took another drag. He stubbed out the cigarette against the building and dropped the bud in the grass. “I’m coming with,” he said.

“No, you’re not. Go back to the other Runners. They’ll assign you a Section.”

“Kevin, Kevin,” he shook his head. “I wasn’t asking permission.”

“You’re not a Keeper anymore. You don’t have the right-“

Andrew ignored Kevin’s orders and spun the wheel handle until it unlocked. He pushed the heavy door open. Kevin shoved past Andrew into the Map Room. Neil watched Andrew step inside with a sort of smugness in his step.

The Map Room was surprisingly empty. In the dead center was a rectangular table with eight chairs. Blank pieces of paper were neatly stacked in front of each chair with a sharpened pencil. Against each wall were two trunks, eight total.

Andrew plopped himself down on one of thechairs and kicked his feet up. Kevin grabbed a paper and pencil. He drew a large square, inside he filled it with nine evenly spaced boxes. In the center, he wrote GLADE. Starting at the top left corner, he numbered each box clockwise around the Glade from one two eight. Neil watched, completely fascinated that the Maze was so simple.

“There are eight Sections and four doors in the Maze,” Kevin explained, sketching out little marks where these doors were. “They lead to Sections One, Three, Five, and Seven. They never change. Each Section is their own square with different paths. The walls move when our Doors close. We assume that since it’s the only time we hear them.”

“I didn’t see anything moving out there,” Neil said.

“Those corridors don’t change, only the ones further out.” Kevin pointed roughly where he was talking about with his pencil, “There used to be eight Runners, each assigned a Section. Things are a little different now, so we switch every other day. When we’re out there, we map our Sections and bring back what we found.”

Neil tapped his finger on Section Five, “It takes you a whole day?”

Andrew grabbed a piece of paper and mindlessly dragged a pencil back and forth. Kevin opened one of the crates. It was filled with papers of similar looking maps, except these were more precise and calculated. There were smaller lines in the square, acting as the corridors. Whoever made this map obviously cared about their work. On the trunk Section Three was written sloppily in ink.

“They figured out the Maze was moving right away,” Kevin held up a map. “When they did, they started keeping track. A few months later, they discovered the Maze repeats itself every month. We still haven’t found an exit. The only thing close to one is the Cliff, and that’s a dead end.”

“It’s been years, why hasn’t anyone stayed out there? Aren’t you desperate?” Neil asked.

“He sounds just like you, Kevin,” Andrew crumbled his paper into a ball.

“What?” Neil looked between them.

Kevin sighed, “I asked the same thing when I got here.”

Neil gripped the straps to his backpack, “And what happened?”

“Andrew was stung,” Kevin shut the trunk. The loud snap echoed in the room.

“What a pleasant afternoon that was,” Andrew said, he chucked the paper at Kevin’s head. Kevin swatted it away, clearly annoyed.

Neil wanted to ask more. He could wait. “So,” Neil tapped his finger restlessly, “anything new?”

Kevin’s shoulders sagged slightly, “No. Not one fucking thing.”

“What a surprise,” Andrew stood from his chair and buckled his backpack across his chest.

“We’ll find something,” Neil nodded, not letting Andrew’s sour mood ruin his.

Kevin nodded, “We have to. Come on, we wasted too much time in here. Stay by my side, don’t slow me down. If you need a break say something. If you waste your energy you’re going to be dead before sunset.”

“Yes, sir,” Andrew raised two fingers to his temple in a mock salute.

Kevin pretended not to see and left the Map Room. Neil followed, he waited for Andrew at the door and walked behind Kevin together.

“You don’t have to do this,” Neil told Andrew.

“Do what?” Andrew asked.

“I don’t know what promise you made, but it doesn’t matter. If you get hurt out there because of me-“

“Let me make this clear,” Andrew interrupted. “Nothing I do is because of you.”

“Okay,” Neil knocked his shoulder against Andrew’s. Andrew shook his head.

At the West door Kevin waited impatiently. Any minute now the doors would open and Neil felt the nerves bubbling in his chest.

“Warm up your legs,” Kevin ordered.

The three of them stood in an oddly shaped circle, running in place and shaking out their limbs. Neil did a few simple stretches as he watched the experienced Runners go through their routines. Kevin focused more on his legs while Andrew stretched out his back and shoulders. Neil did his best on making sure every part of his body was ready. Of course, he would soon realize just how out of shape he truly was.

The doors opened, and once there was enough room for them to fit, Kevin jogged inside the Maze. Neil followed with Andrew in the back. They took various turns and corridors that were all too familiar to the North door, and at the same time completely different. They ran through a large square cut in the wall.

“We’re in Section One now,” Kevin huffed, not taking any time to slow down. “This door is always open. If you get lost, find this, and pray you’ll make it back.”

Neil stored that information for later. The longer they ran, the harder Neil breathed. Sweat dripped intro his eyes and he was constantly wiping his forehead.

“Faster,” Andrew said behind him when Neil slowed down. Neil picked up his speed.

On the next fifth or sixth turn, Kevin slowed down to a brisk walk. Neil almost ran straight into him but Andrew grabbed his sleeve and pulled him back. Kevin reached behind with his good hand, pulled out a notepad from the backpack, scribbled something, and returned it. Neil looked around them.

“Find something?” Neil asked.

“The usual,” Kevin said. They accelerated back into a run.

Eventually they reached an intersection with three other corridors that they could choose. Without stopping, Kevin ran through the middle and pulled a sharp knife from his pack. He slashed at the vines on the wall, a piece of it fell onto the ground behind them. Neil jumped over it.

“Breadcrumbs,” Kevin said.

Two turns left, another right, left, right, right. Every fourth turn Kevin would cut down a decent sized chunk of the plants. If Neil wasn’t busy trying to breathe, he might have been impressed.

“Your turn,” Kevin sucked in a breath, finally sounding a little winded.

“What?” Neil asked.

“You need to practice. Did you bring the knife?” Kevin glanced behind his shoulder quickly, flashing the tattoo.

“Shit,” Neil mumbled, blindly reaching behind his back. He forgot where the zipper was exactly.

Andrew picked up his speed, passing Neil and Kevin easily. The back of his hair was soaked and his lips were parted. He slipped a knife from his bands and slashed a vine as he turned left. As Neil jumped over the vine, he saw a scratch in the stone from Andrew’s knife.

Neil stayed in the back, directly behind Kevin to catch his drift. He was panting loudly and Kevin must have noticed because he said, “Stop, Andrew. Break.”

They slowed to a jog, then a walk, and then finally stopped altogether. Neil raised his hands over his heads and breathed in deeply. Andrew looked up one wall as he too cooled down. A water bottle was shoved into Neil’s face.

“Drink,” Kevin said.

Neil took two gulps before handing it back to Kevin. The pain was starting to creep up his legs. He was fucking tired. And it pissed him off. Kevin pulled out his pale and tossed Neil a bread roll. Neil nibbled. He looked to Andrew, who was also eating a light snack.

Out of the corner of his eye, hidden behind layers of vines and leaves, something caught his attention. It wasn’t a Griever, that was for sure, and it wasn't one of those silver bugs. Neil slowly made his way over.

“What are you doing?” Kevin asked with a hint of annoyance.

Whatever it was was written on the stone itself. Neil wrapped his fingers around a vine, hissing through the pain, and pulled. It lifted an inch then flopped back down. He brought his other hand to the same vine and leaned back with all his weight. The vine ripped off the wall, this time it fell. Neil quickly jumped back as the vine crashed onto the ground.

Left behind were the letters W and O in big block print. More letters were hidden. He spent the next minute pulling off vines one by one. He stepped back to read the writing in full. His heart hammered against his ribs.

WORLD IN CATASTROPHE:

KILLZONE EXPERIMENT DEPARTMENT

He tasted vile in the back of his throat. A bead of sweat collected on his hairline and soaked into his eyebrow. It was obvious, that the Maze would also suffice as a killzone. But he stood in that killzone. He fought hard to run in it. And now, Wicked, or whoever put him here, is taunting him with notes on walls.

A different type of anger simmered in his chest. He clenched his jaw and looked around, up the walls and in the crevices of the vines for any little spies that were lurking.

“What is this?” Neil narrowed his stare onto Kevin and Andrew when he found nothing.

“These are everywhere,” Kevin answered. “Don’t think about it, stay focused.”

Neil shifted his attention to Andrew, he simply shook his head and turned his back to him.

“Let’s go,” Kevin told them. “It’s almost noon, we have a lot of ground to cover.”

-

A few hours passed. Kevin told Neil the time, and that it was when every Runner must turn back if they want to make it before the Doors close.

On the horrible run back they didn’t stop for another break. Neil was close to asking for one, but he wanted to prove to Kevin that he deserved it. That he wasn’t a mistake.

They sprinted through the door into the Glade at the exact time the three other Runners did. Neil’s legs gave out and he fell on his knees. He spat in the grass. Numbly, he followed Kevin when he said it was time to go.

The Runners met in the Map Room where they mapped out their section for the day. He was introduced to Julian, the one Nicky called cute, and Hank. The girl said her name was Kallie.

Kevin had Neil draw the map from memory alone. Neil only drew a square and the start of one line before Kevin ripped the paper away and yelled at him for not paying attention. Julian gave Neil a sympathetic look and Kallie chuckled to herself. Andrew grabbed the paper from Kevin, he drew the map with such precision Neil couldn’t help but watch.

The doors closed, signaling dinner. Kevin told his Runners to eat and stretch before they went to bed. Neil ate with Andrew at the Box. They were both too tired to ask questions or keep a conversation going.

Neil thought about staying up to shower. The second he laid down on his cot, he knew that idea was ridiculous. His shoes were still on and his hair was damp and dirty. He wanted to fall asleep as quickly as he could, just so he could do it all again tomorrow.

The pain in his legs he could handle, he could handle Kevin, he could handle a lot of things. What was about to come would test him. And it was either going to tear him apart, or break the people around him.

He was drifting into the comforting blissfulness of sleep when a man spoke French in his head.

_Nathaniel, I triggered the Ending._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god, I am so sorry for the wait. I don’t even have an excuse. But I finally wrote a chapter. Bless.
> 
> If you’re still reading, thank you so much! I appreciate you more than you know.
> 
> Thank you for the kudos and leave a comment if you want!! I love reading them! <3


	11. Griever Hole

Neil pushed himself upright in his cot and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. Across from him, Matt rolled onto his side. His mouth was wide open and drool pooled onto his pillow. The door was ajar by a few inches since Matt liked to sleep with a draft. At first it made Neil anxious, then after a couple days he'd gotten used to it. He leaned forward to look outside.

"Shit," Neil whispered. He jumped to his feet. "Shit. Shit."

He was late. Fucking late. He swung his backpack over one shoulder and wretched the door open. Neil took one step outside and stopped.

Above him, where he expected to see an ombré of black and blues, there was nothing, only gray. There were lines splitting the sky into a pattern of huge slabs of gray squares. The sun had disappeared. He could still see through the dull light, though he found himself squinting.

A few Gladers woke from their hammocks near Neil's hut. They gasped and gawked up at the sky. Someone yelled, waking more people and soon there was a group of them pointing up.

Neil looked down at his watch. Wake-up call was supposed to be an hour ago. Breakfast should have been served by now. He turned around and shook Matt by the shoulder.

"Matt!" Neil yelled. "Wake up!"

Matt groaned and covered his eyes with his arm, swatting Neil's hand away. Neil retaliated by grabbing Matt's pillow and pulling it out from under his head. His head bounced on the thin mattress.

"Dude," Matt looked as close to pissed Neil had ever seen. "What the fuck?"

Neil threw the pillow on Matt's stomach, "Something's happening."

With a very vocal disapproval of being woken up, Matt grabbed his discarded pants from the floor. Neil returned outside. Matt followed, hopping on one foot as he slipped his shoes on.

"What the fuck," Matt said under his breath.

Matt ran his fingers through his hair anxiously, peering up at the sky. His lips were moving without actual words spoken. The Gladers migrated their way to the Box, some standing on the metal doors as if that would give them a better view. Matt and Neil made their way over.

Neil scanned through the crowd for Nicky and the twins. He found Allison and Renee with their arms linked. Allison felt Neil's stare and glared back with a murderous vengeance. Renee followed her line of sight, spotted Neil, and told Allison something. He quickly went back to staring at the sky.

The thing that unnerved Neil wasn't the fact the sun was gone, it was that the sun was never there in the first place. Thinking back to it, the signs were all obvious: no clouds, no birds, no sun even at the Cliff.

For years, an artificial star had given the Gladers warmth and provided the energy needed for their crops to grow. It's been the only thing in their short lives that was reliable. The sun rose in the morning and set in the night with the helpful timing of the doors. This was their way of life, how they kept track of time, how they stayed alive. Now, that was gone. And their panic represented that.

The Monsters were the last few to find their way to the Box. They formed a triangle with Andrew and Aaron running side by side and Nicky in the front.

"What's going on?" Nicky asked once he was close enough to be heard.

"No idea," Matt answered. He chewed his thumb nail down to a jagged stub.

"Maybe it's broken," Neil said without thinking. The four boys stared at him.

"Broken?" Matt asked.

Neil shrugged, "I mean, yeah. Right? It looks like a ceiling. I bet they'll turn it back on soon."

"Neil," Matt said slowly. "What are you talking about?"

Neil blinked, confusion clearly written across his face. It was so obvious, wasn't it? Then he remembered the voice, Jean, in his head last night. _I triggered the Ending_, he said. It wasn't something Neil dreamed. Neil caught Andrew’s attention, wondering if he understood. Andrew was a blank page.

Aaron shook his head in the same way Andrew did sometimes, "This is fucking insane. We should have listened to Seth."

"Shut up, Aaron," Matt sneered.

"Careful," Andrew warned.

Matt turned his attention back to Neil, "Do you remember anything else?"

"No," Neil answered. "Nothing. It's just, there's still light in here. It doesn't add up."

"Yeah," Nicky grumbled, squinting at the gray sky. "We're completely fucked."

"Neil!" Kevin yelled, running towards them. He pushed his way through the crowd and ignored the looks he got. He had his running shoes on and backpack tied around his chest. In one hand he carried a water bottle and a tiny notebook, and in the other hand a lunch pale. "Where were you? You're late."

"Are you kidding?" Nicky answered for Neil. "Do you not see the shit show above us?"

Kevin looked up, maybe for the first time like he just realized. "We need to get going," he said.

Kevin stepped behind Neil and unzipped Neil's backpack then stuffed everything inside. Neil took the dagger Kevin was holding over his shoulder and strapped it on his calf. His muscles were extremely sore and it hurt to bend down.

"Neil, you can't seriously be going out there right now," Nicky argued.

"It's fine," Neil said. "If the Maze has changed we need to know."

"See, Neil understands," Kevin zipped Neil's backpack. "Let's go."

Surprisingly, Aaron was the first to walk away. Neil watched the back of his head as he made his way to Homestead. He looked so small with the walls towering over him. The gray sky fit his irritating mood quite well.

"Stay with Aaron today, Nicky," Andrew said, he grabbed the front of Nicky's shirt and pulled him down.

"Y-yeah," Nicky stuttered. "Of course."

"Do not leave his side. I don't care what Dan fucking says, got it?"

"Got it," Nicky tried to reassure Andrew with a smile. Andrew released his grip and shoved him back.

"Are you done?" Kevin asked with his arms crossed, his finger tapping impatiently against his bicep.

"After you, your highness," Andrew mocked, sweeping his hand and stepping to the side to let Kevin pass.

Neil moved to follow but Matt caught his arm before he had the chance. He glanced at the hand squeezing his arm then up at Matt's worried face.

"Hey," Matt said, his eyes darting back and forth. Neil held his breath. "Be safe, okay? Don't do anything stupid."

_Stupid, Abram_, the woman's voice said, a faint whisper in his mind. _How could you be so stupid?_

Neil ripped his arm away from Matt's grasp and somehow regretted it. He hurt Matt, in a way he didn't have time to fully understand. Matt furrowed his eye brows together and held his hand against his chest like it was burned.

"Neil!" Kevin snapped him out from his thoughts.

Maybe Neil should have said something to his roommate then. A simple _you too_, or an _I'll be back soon_. Anything would have been better than nothing. But the selfishness of needing to explore the Maze, to learn from Kevin and Andrew was stronger than the curiosity of friendship.

Friendship. That's what Matt wanted. That was the thing he expected from Neil. And Neil just wasn't capable. He could never be there like Renee, who always seemed to know what to say to anyone, including Andrew. He couldn't be like Nicky, obnoxiously charming, and although he wasn't a great listener, he was a master at talking. He couldn't be like Andrew, either, a rock in people's lives that acted like an annoying pebble in their shoe, or like someone they could rely on. Like what he was for his brother, whether Arron wanted it or not.

Neil related the most to Kevin, a man that didn't need relationships to fill a hole in his life. Because he had the Maze, he had the maps and the Runners. He had a purpose. And whenever Neil closed his eyes and pictured running the dark corridors, he saw Kevin by his side, a number two written permanently on his skin.

They were going to beat the game together.

Neil stretched his calves in the middle of the West door. There were no shadows in the Maze or wind blowing in his face. He wasn't sweating like he usually was. The heat disappeared with the sun. While he was thankful, he knew that it wasn't a good thing.

The Ending.

Neil tore a dried piece of skin off his bottom lip with his teeth. Blood swelled and he licked the wound quickly. His stomach gurgled from hunger or anxiety. Neil swallowed and stood. He hopped on both feet and rolled his neck.

"Stay close," Kevin said, swinging his arms across his chest to loosen his shoulders. Andrew smoothed the bands on his arms. "We lost over an hour. There will be no breaks unless we absolutely need them."

He didn't wait for an objection and ran into the Maze, his long legs forced Andrew and Neil to sprint. They quickly fell into a line, Kevin leading and Andrew in the back. Neil didn't look up as they passed torn vines and chipped stone from Grievers. He stayed focused, he kept track of each turn and and which corridor they took at each intersection. He memorized certain landmarks that could hopefully help him draw a map later.

Kevin eventually started cutting down "bread crumbs." Neil presumed it was because they were deeper in the Maze. His hypothesis was proven true as there was an increase in vertical lines splitting the stone into sections, indicating where they moved during the night.

Neil was a little too focused on his footwork to realize Kevin had stopped. He slammed into Kevin's back at full speed. He grunted as Kevin yanked him against the wall of the corridor they had just turned in. Andrew followed Kevin's odd actions without question. They both held one hand over Neil's chest and pressed him securely into the wall. Kevin had his head turned the other way, down the corridor.

A moment of silence. Neil's heart raced and his palms grew clammy. Kevin looked down at the shorter boys, his eyes were wide.

"There's a Griever," Kevin half whispered, half mouthed.

Neil reflexively leaned forward to get a good look himself. He barely got an inch before Andrew pushed him back with an unnecessary amount of force. Neil choked back on the painful groan from his backpack rubbing against his stitches.

"What is it doing?" Neil mouthed to Kevin. He shook his head as an answer.

They stood there for a minute or two. Neil's legs were cramping and he desperately needed to relieve the pressure on his back. Kevin dropped his arm, Andrew kept his hand on Neil's chest. Neil stared at the side of Andrew's jaw to steady himself.

Andrew reminded Neil of their time at the South door window, waiting for a Griever to appear in the pitch black. Just as Andrew was then, he didn't move a muscle, patient as always. Neil studied the hairs that fell over Andrew's ear and the faint blemishes under his eyes, hidden by dark circles that came from long nights of painful memories that no one could ever understand.

He followed the curve of Andrew's neck and shoulder. Neil thought about the white shirt he wore in the Dead Heads and how different he looked, softer. His fingertips pressed against the pocket knife resting against his thigh. He thought of the A, and how it felt against his skin.

Andrew. Abram.

Different, yet the same. Two boys Neil knew but didn't remember.

"It's gone," Kevin said. His quiet voice sounded so loud that Neil jumped and hit his head against the wall.

Kevin sprinted down the corridor where the Griever supposedly was. Without thinking, Neil ran after. He heard the footsteps of Andrew running behind him.

They took a right turn, and then a left. At every corner they slowed down enough to let Kevin look each way then sprinted again. This went on for about fifteen minutes. Neil was working up a sweat from the constant stop and go. His thighs burned with each step and he was incredibly thirsty.

The Keeper ran in silence, never looking back to check on the Runners and never second guessing his route. Their surroundings were familiar to Neil. He quickly found out why.

Kevin stopped just as abruptly as before. This time, Neil was paying attention and slowed to a jog. He felt Andrew grab ahold of his backpack. Twenty feet in front of them, a Griever rolled. It led them to the Cliff.

Just as the Griever was about to hit the edge, it untucked it's legs and jumped forward into the gray abyss. Gravity pulled the Griever down instantly. Neil chased after it, the blood in his ears blocking out Andrew's voice.

He was too late. The Griever was gone.

It hurt his head to look down the Cliff. Instead of black it was gray. It didn't look like there was an end but he knew that wasn't possible.

Kevin and Andrew stood on each side of Neil, both leaning forward.

"This is the second time now," Kevin said. "It can't be a coincidence."

"There has to be a trap door," Neil muttered, thinking out loud. "An exit or something. If the Grievers can leave then so can we."

Kevin nodded in agreement. "Okay. Gather some shit to throw. We need to find where it went."

There wernt many pebbles or rocks so they cut decently sized chunks of vines. Neil chiseled off a few pieces of stone from a small divot in one of the walls with the but of his dagger. They made a pile near the Cliff. Once Kevin seemed satisfied, he motioned Andrew and Neil over.

Kevin took out his notebook and pencil from his backpack. The notebook was crammed full of loose papers and scribbled notes. He flipped through the pages to find an empty one. Neil caught glimpses of sketches of Grievers, maps, sections that needed to be assigned, to do lists, and workout routines. Every so often, in the top corner of a random page, there would be a number counting up somewhere in the one hundreds. He found a page that was half empty and decided that was good enough.

"Neil, start on the left. Andrew, go to the right and meet in the middle," Kevin ordered.

Neil gathered as many items as he could carry with one arm. Andrew did the same, for once not talking back to Kevin.

Kevin faced the Cliff directly in the middle, also holding materials. "Throw it at a jumping distance," he said a little louder, his voice echoed in the Maze.

Andrew tossed the first piece of stone. Neil watched it arch in the air and fall back into the gray. It grew smaller and smaller until he couldn’t see it even if he squinted. Kevin tosseda vine, and then so did Neil.

The three of them silently tossed pebbles and plants for a while. Andrew and Neil slowly crept towards the middle. Neil was about to toss his fourteenth one when Kevin exhaled louder than usual. Neil looked up. Kevin hastily grabbed a larger piece of stone in their pile, and let it fall where he just stood. Neil watched, he expected it to fall for a while then it vanished into thin air. They were all at a lost for words.

"Do it again," Neil told him after a while, now standing beside Kevin.

Kevin searched around for something bigger. When he couldn't find any thing that suited his expectations, he sawed off a one foot vine from the wall. He carried and pushed it over. As it fell, it straightened itself out. It disappeared in the same spot. Neil blinked, his brain short circuiting.

“How did you miss this?” Kevin asked. He looked over to Andrew who stared blankly at the spot.

“I don’t know, we must have skipped over it,” Andrew answered without an edge to his tone. Neil guessed he was shocked as well.

Kevin clenched his jaw and his fists. “That’s all you can say? What if this is the way out? And you fucking skipped over it.”

Andrew tilted his head, “This doesn’t mean anything.”

“Oh, shut the hell up. Look at what you’ve done,” Kevin gestured to the sky above them, like somehow Andrew was capable of doing such a thing. “You know what we’re supposed to be doing, and you just sit there watching us get everything wrong.”

“Kevin,” Andrew warned, he was as tense as an animal that was about to pounce. Neil saw it coming. “Be quiet.”

“No,” Kevin puffed his chest. “I don’t care that you blame me for what happened to you. I don’t care if you rot in the fucking Glade.” Neil kept his mouth shut. This argument clearly took a turn into something else, something more personal. Kevin continued, “You can hide in the Blood House all you want. Remember you’re the one that chose to go through-“

Kevin’s pointless and out of the blue rant struck the last nerve Andrew had. Andrew threw the first punch. The smack of bone against bone ricocheted off the walls of the Maze. Kevin stumbled away from the edge, he covered the left side of his face with both hands. Blood gushed from his nose and into his open mouth. It dripped onto the ground, staining the pale stone.

Another punch was thrown from Andrew. This time in the ribs. Kevin gasped in pain and doubled over. Andrew brought back his arm and hit his elbow against the side of Kevin’s head. The skin on his ear tore and swelled, blood soaked into his hair and slid down his neck.

This all happened in a matter of seconds. Andrew moved like a Griever, fast and calculated. Neil made the mistake of getting between them in a half attempt to shield Kevin from the viscous blows. 

Something sharp sliced across his jaw. Neil cursed and covered the stinging sensation with his hand. He pulled back to find bright red soaked soaked in the bandages. Andrew dropped his blade, it clattered on the ground.

Neil felt the panic rise in his chest. He felt the familiar flight instinct creep into his legs. He avoided looking Andrew in the eyes and kept his head low. He braced himself for another slash, another scar that would cover his body.

“N-“ _Nathaniel._

He flinched so violently he tripped over Kevin. Neil curled himself into a ball, protecting his head because his torso was already a lost cause.

Neil was lost. He kept his eyes shut and relived two memories. He choked on the smoke and the burning leather. He tasted ash and salt. He felt hot blood soak into his clothes and rain beat against his skin.

“-wrong with you?” someone yelled.

He was hyperventilating. Neil felt dizzy and his breathes were ragged and short. His body basically refused to accept any oxygen.

“Neil? Can you hear me? Shit, what the fuck did you do?”

Their voice was muffled and distant. Neil pulled at his hair, trying to find his way through the fog that swept over his mind.

“Come on, Neil. Get up.”

He felt a hand grab his shoulder and then a gust of wind near his face. The hand left his body.

“Don’t touch him,” someone else said. Neil latched onto their deep, stern voice like a lifeline.

He counted in his head. Once he reached one hundred, Neil could breathe again. At two hundred, he remembered where he was. At two hundred and thirty, he opened his eyes.

Kevin stood a few feet away from him, a bruise around his eye and nose. Blood soaked in his skin. Neil had a weird moment of deja vu.

“Can you stand?” Kevin asked.

Neil bit down on his pathetic trembling lip. He slowly rose to his feet. His body was exhausted and run down, he wanted to lay back on the cold ground. Andrew was near the Cliff again, he tracked Neil’s movements carefully with his eyes. The blade was gone.

Kevin started, “Neil-“

He pressed the back of his hand to the cut on his jaw. Blood soaked into the bandage and he wiped his face despite the sharp sting. It wasn’t deep, but there would probably be a faint scar. Neil was suddenly glad the Glade didn’t have mirrors, he didn’t know if he could handle seeing his face scarred like his body.

“I’m fine,” Neil said between clenched teeth. “Are you two finished?”

Kevin answered for them both, “We’re done.” He grabbed his backpack and notebook, wrote something down quickly, then flung it over his shoulder. “Can you run or not?”

“I’m bleeding, not dead,” Neil said. Andrew still hadn't moved.

“Let’s go. We’ll tell the others what we found.” 

Before Kevin left the Cliff in a light jog, he spat on the ground, saliva mixed with blood. He rounded the corner and disappeared behind a wall. Andrew and Neil stayed.   


Neil couldn’t look at him right now, not yet. He needed a minute to find his bearings. In the back of his mind, he knew what Andrew did was an accident. But now it would always be marked on his skin as a constant reminder that even the ones you trust are still capable of hurting you. 

“You blame Kevin?” Neil asked.

A beat, and then, “No.”

“He blames you?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“He needs to.”

Neil nodded in only partial understanding, “You hit him.”

“I cut you.”

“I’m fine.”

“Neil.”

“Andrew.”

Neil waited. When nothing else was said, he turned and left the Cliff and its tension. Andrew kept a decent amount of distance between the two of them, sensing Neil’s anxiousness.

He relied on memory to find his way back. It may have took a little longer than Kevin, but at least he was finally in the Glade. Kevin waited for them at the door, he looked past Neil to Andrew. Neil didn’t bother seeing if they were going to fight again because Matt and Dan were walking towards them.

Matt squinted at Neil’s face, and ran to quickly close the distance. He grabbed ahold of Neil’s head and turned it so he could see the cut. Neil jerked away.

“It’s okay,” Neil said.

Matt narrowed his eyes at Neil. He looked over his head where Andrew stood. Matt said, “You piece of-“

Neil blocked Matt’s rampage with a hand on his chest. “It wasn’t his fault. It’s fine Matt, seriously.”

It didn’t seem to convince Matt, but at least he dropped it for now. Not without giving Andrew another glare.

“What the fuck happened to you?” Dan raised both eye brows at Kevin.

“We found something,” Kevin ignored the question.

“We did too,” she shook her head.

“What?” Neil asked.

“Supplies didn’t come up today,” she motioned to the Box behind her with her head. “Seems like everything’s falling apart.”

“Fuck,” Kevin ran his hand through his hair and winced. “That’s not good.”

“No sun for food, no supplies,” Matt grumbled. “Yeah, it’s not good.”

Neil looked behind his shoulder. Andrew was standing with his arms crossed, his fingers picking at the bands on his arms. His eyes were clouded and he looked into the Maze, as if to avoid everyone else stares. Neil wanted to pull him out from wherever he was. He understood what it was like. Though he couldn’t imagine the horrors Andrew saw when he slipped away.

“What did you find?” Dan rolled her wrist, pushing Kevin to get on with it.

“I think it’s where the Grievers live, at the Cliff. It’s like, a hole or something. A Griever Hole. It could be the exit we’ve been looking for,” Kevin answered a little too enthusiastically. His grin was terrifying with the blood stained on his teeth.

Matt shook his head and rubbed his temple, “Wait, what? This doesn’t sound right.”

“We’ll pack enough for a night,” Kevin ignored Matt’s confusion. “If the Grievers come out again then we’ll know for sure it’s their nest.”

“Slow down,” Dan waved her hands. “No one’s staying out there a whole night. Did you forget what happened last time? I almost died for fucks sake.”

“We lived. We know what to do now, we can-“

“No,” Dan’s tone suggested it wasn’t up for negotiation.

“Fucking ridiculous,” Kevin muttered under his breath. “This is the first thing we have ever found. And you don’t want to do-“

“Guys!”

All heads turned to Nicky, who was running the fastest Neil had ever seen him run. His eyes were wide and he had on a huge blinding smile. Kevin was red in the face with anger, either from Dan’s refusal or from being interrupted again.

“What?” Dan asked frantically, suddenly on high alert. “What’s happened?”

Neil was just as curious. Nicky looked happy, which may have been a relief.

“He’s awake,” Nicky gasped, hands on his knees. “He’s awake.”

Neil thought his day couldn’t get any worse. He was terribly wrong. His stomach flipped and he had to fight not to throw up. Kevin looked worse, no doubt worrying about the man that shared his tattoo.

Dan and Matt went with Nicky to most likely visit the infirmary. Neil watched them walk away. Without saying a goodbye to Kevin or Andrew, he walked numbly into the Dead Heads. 

He sat on a flat rock large enough to keep himself comfortable. His hands trembled in his lap. Neil clenched his filthy shirt with both hands. His head pounded, his legs hurt, and his back throbbed.

Despite those minor problems, he was glad to be alone. Being away from Kevin and Andrew’s weird relationship, away from Matt’s hovering, and away from the Maze was like a breath of fresh air. He hoped no one would find him here. At least for a while.

“Bonjour, Nathaniel.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sneak peak of the next chapter :D
> 
> “Neil heard the scratch of metal and felt the vibrations as it carved into wood. He covered his nose and mouth with a trembling hand, afraid it could hear him breathing. The smell and texture of dried blood against his skin almost made him wretch.”
> 
> -
> 
> When I said slow burn, I meant SLOW BURN. It’s torture for me too, trust me.
> 
> Thank you for your comments and support on the last chapter <3 It keeps me going.


	12. Sacrifice

They stared at one another, both not knowing what to do or say. Neil slowly stood. He kept his hands open so Jean wouldn't get the wrong idea and start a fight that Neil would have to finish. Jean's eyes lingered on Neil's hair.

"_You look different_," Jean spoke in French.

The back of Neil's neck tingled, like someone ran their nail over his skin. "_You know me?_" he continued the French as well. It felt a bit forced since he was out of practice.

"_Are you not Nathaniel?_"

"_It's Neil._"

Jean reached up to his forehead and rubbed his temple with his middle finger. He grimaced like he was in pain. "_Ah, so many names._"

Neil didn't like the sound of that. "_Neil_," he said again.

"_Neil_," he ran his tongue along his bottom lip. He flicked his gray eyes up the wall. "_Josten._"

The note from Neil's first day flashed in his mind. Did you write this? Andrew had asked.

Neil swallowed. "_How do you know that?_"

"_I don't know. It's_," Jean struggled to think of the word, "_fading. I remember feeling everything, the emotions of it all. It hurt. Most of the time, I think. There isn't much else._"

Neil understood all too well. He too could feel what he had forgotten.

"_You spoke in my head_," Neil said. "_How?_"

_I just can_, Jean said in his mind.

"_Stop. Don't do it again_," Neil glared to get his point across.

Jean tugged the right sleeve on his arm. "_I will try_."

"_Good_," Neil muttered.

Jean stepped forward rather quickly and Neil, buzzing with panic, pulled out his pocket knife and quickly flipped the blade. Jean stopped. He rose his hands above his shoulders in surrender.

"_I thought you didn't like knives_," Jean drawled out each word, like he didn't know if he was right or wrong.

Jean was right, but Neil didn't have to give him the satisfaction. "_Do you remember anything helpful? I would like this conversation to be over._"

Jean rolled up the sleeve he was fussing with. There was blue ink written on his forearm. Neil squinted. He was too far away to make out what it said.

"_What?_" Neil asked.

"_Look_," Jean cautiously stepped forward.

Neil kept the blade pointed at Jean as they slowly closed the space between them. Jean's cheeks were hollowed and his collarbones stuck through his shirt. The borrowed pants he wore was too short on his long legs. He looked like he hadn't eaten in days. Refraining himself from asking the obvious, Neil looked down at Jean's forearm. The letters were messy and hard to read. If Neil's memory wasn't completely failing him, then the handwriting matched the note. Neil read: _Wicked est bon_.

"Wicked is good," Neil translated in English. He heard the hint of a French accent laced in his voice. "When did this happen?"

Jean switched to English, though not as easily as Neil. "When I woke up. I was slipping in and out. I didn't want to forget everything. There were a lot of people around me. A few of them were arguing and another left a pen near the bed. I must have grabbed it before I left."

Neil pressed his fingers against the scars under his shirt. "I've seen the word before. Wicked, I mean. It's on the bugs in the trees and Maze."

"Bugs?"

"Spies for the Creators."

"Les Créateurs," Jean whispered. Neil somehow knew he was panicking before there were any obvious signs. Jean pulled the sleeve down over his scarred fingers. He mumbled something Neil didn't catch. Then said, "The Moriyamas."

Neil's blood ran cold. He backed away from Jean. His fingers itched to drop the knife. The picture of the man popped up in his mind. They were connected, some how. Neil tried to think but he only saw black.

"They put us together, you and I. I think that's why they sent us here. We're supposed to end this, finish what they started."

Neil groaned, he held his head in his hands. "The Moriyamas?" he tasted metal when the words left his lips.

"Oui. Kevin and Riko were-"

Neil scrambled backwards, his breathe caught in his throat. He waited for Jean to hurt himself or attack Neil. Jean's eyes widened in surprise.

"_What? What is it?_" Jean switched back to French in his panic.

Neil stumbled in English, "You... You said Riko. Who is he? Did he do this to us? Jean, who is he?"

Jean squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his palm against his forehead. "I don't know why I said that. I don't remember."

"You were just about to say something. What were you going to say? Think, Jean. What did he-"

Neil was cut off by sounds of snapping branches and leaves rustling. Jean and Neil turned. Walking together was Aaron and Matt. When Aaron noticed them he said, "I fucking told you."

Aaron made a move to grab at Jean. Neil was quick, he grabbed Aaron’s wrist in the air and pressed on a pressure point. Aaron hissed in pain.

"Don't touch him," Neil squeezed harder as a warning.

"Back off, shank," Aaron ripped his arm from Neil's grasp. He stepped into Jean's personal space, sizing him up. Compared to Andrew, Aaron wasn't as intimidating, but he made his presence known. "What did you do?"

Jean kept his lips sealed. He stared down at Aaron with an expression that could be interpreted many different ways.

"Aaron, calm down," Matt said.

"No, Matt. The sky's gray, the Box is gone. This is his fault. What the fuck did you do?" Aaron asked again. When Jean refused to answer, he shoved Jean with a strong push to the chest.

Neil was livid, he felt an odd need to defend Jean. So he did. His ears popped and he ran at Aaron full speed. He bent his knees and rammed his shoulder in Aaron’s side. Aaron’s feet left the ground from the momentum. Neil wrapped his arms around Aaron’s waist so he couldn't get away. Aaron grunted as Neil body slammed him on the ground. Neil fell on top of Aaron. He quickly gathered his bearings and fisted Aaron’s shirt in his hands. Aaron tried pushing Neil off.

Adrenaline pumped through Neil's veins. He lifted Aaron by his shirt and forced him back against the ground. Aaron head bounced, he sucked in a raged breath. When Aaron was just about to try again, Neil held the knife close to Aaron’s face. He felt the corners of his mouth pull back in a small smile. Aaron looked down at the weapon, his eyes fell on the A above Neil's thumb.

"Woah!" Matt yelled, "Hey! Hey!"

An arm wrapped around Neil's torso and he was ripped off of Aaron. Matt carried Neil like a doll. He dropped him to the side. Neil breathed heavily through his nose. A muscle in his shoulder burned.

Aaron sat up, turned his head and spat onto the dirt. Bits of grass stuck to his hair. The back of his shirt was also stained with dirt.

"You both need to cut it out," Matt stood between the two boys. He kept his arms outstretched like he was training animals. "This isn't getting us anywhere and you're acting like kids."

Aaron pushed himself off the ground, he pointed a finger at Neil. "Stay the fuck away from my brother."

The mention of Andrew made Neil snap again. He lunged forward.

"Hey!" Matt yelled, he blocked Neil's rampage with his body. "That's enough, Neil!"

Neil pushed Matt away from him. "I'm good," Neil said. "I'm fine."

"Yeah, you say that and then you almost kill Aaron."

"If I wanted to kill him, he'd be dead," Neil said.

Aaron scoffed, "You can try, Greenie."

"Aaron," Matt narrowed his eyes at the short blonde.

"Well," Jean said in English. They turned their heads. He leaned against a tree with his arms crossed. "Now that that's over," he motioned for Neil to talk. Neil didn't know what he wanted. Jean sighed, "What has happened since the Ending started?"

"The what?" Matt asked.

Neil swallowed, "The Ending. I think it's why the sky is gray."

"You have one minute to explain before I personally throw you in the Slammer," Matt crossed his arms and planted his feet shoulder width apart. Aaron’s glare irritated Neil beyond belief, he wanted to smack it off of him.

"I don't know anything," Neil clarified. "But things are changing. We need to prepare for anything. I don't exactly know what-"

Matt waved his hands to shut Neil up. "Wait. Wait."

"What?" Aaron asked, aggravated.

"Shh," Matt pressed his finger to his mouth and tilted his head like he was listening to something. Neil listened too, he heard nothing. "What time is it?" he asked as he looked down at his own watch. Aaron and Neil did the same.

"Shit," Aaron muttered.

It was thirty two minutes past six. The doors should have closed seventeen minutes ago. They were frozen, staring numbly as the plastic hand ticked on their wrists. The tension between Neil and Aaron trickled into something more worrisome: the reality of their world caving in on itself.

"What?" Jean asked, confused.

Matt turned and ran away from the wall, back to the Glade. The others followed. Throughout the Glade everyone was in a full blown panic. People ran around the seeping corner collecting blankets and their bags. Neil saw Renee and the rest of the Builders hauling slabs of wood and tools from the Tree Groove to Homestead.

They reached the entrance fairly quickly. Matt pushed inside the door as a boy with a spiked wooden pole walked out. They were packed inside like sardines. A few were hammering planks over windows, others were passing out the weapons from downstairs. It was a little unnerving to see a girl, maybe thirteen, swing a dagger the size of her arm. The ceiling and floor creaked from all the extra weight. Neil heard whispers and gasps that came from seeing Jean.

Surrounding the table with the vase were the Keepers Allison, Andrew, Dan, Kevin and Nicky. Andrew saw them first and the tension left his shoulders. Their conversation stopped. Kevin glanced over and paled. The cut on his nose was binded by a thin white strip and the bruise was deep and purple. He stepped away from the table and whispered something to Dan. Dan snapped her eyes to where the four boys stood.

"There you are," Dan said over the loud noise. Matt lowered his head to kiss her forehead, she closed her eyes at the small gesture. As if she flipped a switch, she resumed to the task at hand. "I've got the Sloppers boarding up the infirmary, and the Track-Hoes are in the kitchen rationing our food," she informed the newcomers.

Aaron took his place next to Nicky. Neil wanted to go to Andrew, to feed off his calm energy, but Jean was like an anchor he couldn't let go. Rev came from the basement with a small cardboard box. She passed out the rest of the watches and told them what time the doors were supposed to open and close. The few who were lucky enough to receive one held the watch like it was precious treasure.

"How much time do you think we have before the Grievers come?" Nicky asked, his voice wavered.

Kevin spoke up. He avoided Neil and Jean's presence as best he could. "Another half an hour, maybe. They might already be out there."

Dan held onto Matt's arm, the only sign that she was a least bit worried. "Okay," she said. "The youngest will stay in the infirmary. We stay in the kitchen. If the Grievers, attack, they'll probably go through the roof first.” She pointed at Jean. "Andrew, take him to the Slammer."

"No," Neil stepped in front of Jean.

"I'm not asking," Dan challenged.

"I don't care."

"He’ll probably be safer out there than in here," Nicky added. "We'll cover the vines so they can't see him."

Jean was quiet, taking these orders very well. Neil suspected he didn't know what the Slammer was or what it meant.

"No," Neil said again. "He stays here."

"It's okay," Jean said in English. Nicky was a little too pleased to hear him speak. "It'll only be one night, oui?"

Neil looked at Jean's face, trying to find any sign that he was faking his confidence. When he didn't, he sighed. "Okay. At least give him something to defend himself with, just in case."

Dan nodded to Andrew, who in return tossed a small switch blade to Jean. He caught it easily and examined the mechanism. Jean followed Andrew out into the dull Glade. Their shadows walked past the windows to the Slammer.

The Gladers around them passed out sleeping bags and the Cooks gave out rolls of bread as dinner. Neil ignored the Keepers conversation and watched the door. He waited to hear Jean's voice in his head, reassuring him that he's okay and that he wouldn't die. Nothing came.

Andrew returned with Renee, her hair messy and tool belt strapped around her waist. Allison gave her a small smile. It was odd, seeing Allison in such rough shape. Her hair seemed to have lost that natural bounce and there was redness around her eyes. Guilt spread throughout Neil's chest as he thought that Seth got what he deserved. Allison, though, made him almost reconsider. Andrew stood by Neil now, he gave a quick nod and Neil relaxed. Jean will be fine.

"Everyone's inside," Renee announced. "We triple checked. The last of the windows are being boarded right now."

As the words left her mouth two musclar boys dragged a huge barricade over the front door. It looked like it was made out of metal. The bottom scraped the floor. Neil watched in amazement. He hadn't seen that anywhere in Homestead before. For good measure, they nailed down the sides of the thick metal.

Homestead was enveloped in darkness. There was a quiet murmer then one by one, Gladers flicked on their flashlights.

With Matt's help, Dan stood on top of the table. She clapped her hands to get the floors attention. A dozen or so flash lights shined on her. She squinted in the light.

"Listen up!" she yelled. Her voice could be heard even on the top floor. They gave her their full attention. "The youngest will sleep in the infirmary. Everyone else split to the first and third floor. Use the buddy system. Do not loose your buddy. Lights go out in two minutes. There will be no talking and no moving." An uncertain mumble from the Gladers. Dan softened her tone, only a little. "We will survive tonight. This is what we’ve prepared for. We're fucking Gladers, alright? We can do this. Try to get some sleep, I'll see you in the morning."

There was a few awkward moments as people settled into their spots. Some went to the infirmary. Nicky and Neil followed the Keepers to the third floor.

At the top of the staircase was a long hallway. To the left was the kitchen, already pretty full of people. Down the hall were two more doors which were both open. One looked like another storage space and the other a large pantry. They stepped over Gladers in sleeping bags.

In the kitchen there were three windows. An old rustic fridge was in one corner, and on the wall beside it was a row of counters. The dishes were stacked on handmade shelves on the opposite wall. Pots and pans hung from hooks on the ceiling. On the counter tops Neil saw one sink, two stoves, and two ovens. The floor had an ugly brown tile which complimented the grimy wallpaper.

Dan, Matt, Allison, Renee, and Kevin took refuge in the corner next to the dishes. Kevin seemed more relaxed now that Jean was out of his sight. The brothers and Nicky sat in front of the counters. Andrew stretched his legs, which made everyone around him move out of his way. Neil hesitated. He didn't fit with the Monsters, and he didn't want to be under Dan's scrutiny the whole night. He found an empty spot under a window. Neil scrunched his shoulders and tucked in his legs. There was a girl and boy to his right with their arms around one another. He muttered something in her ear. In the middle of the floor, a bunch of people camped together.

"Lights out!" Dan yelled. Matt switched off his flashlight and the rest went out with it.

It would have been pitch black except for the cracks between the boards. The light wasn't bright enough to see any thing else but his hands. Still, he hated it. He hated the sounds of people moving in their blankets as they got comfortable. He hated the sting of his stitches when he leaned back against the wall. He hated waiting.

Dan's group was mumbling to them selves quietly. Neil squinted in their direction but he only caught Kevin or Matt's hair.

"Andrew," someone whispered rather loudly. It sounded like Aaron. "What are-"

A choir of shushes cut him off. There was movement and the floor creaked. Neil saw a dark figure struggle to make their way over to him. Andrew cursed when he tripped over someone’s foot.

Neil scooted over to make room for him. Andrew sat in the open space beside Neil and spread out his legs. In the dim light, Neil focused on Andrew's face.

"What are you doing?" Neil whispered softly. No one shushed him so he assumed he wasn't too loud.

Andrew turned his head in Neil's direction. They were close. Andrew leaned in to whisper in Neil's ear. "Do you not want my company?" His breath was hot against Neil's skin. He shuddered.

"I don't mind," Neil admitted.

"I thought so." He was quiet, and then, "You have a new friend."

"He's not my friend."

"Don't lie."

"I'm not. He..." Neil searched Andrew's eyes for what, he didn't know. "He knew me before. He wrote that note."

"How nice of him," Andrew still had a nack for sounding bored and disinterested even in a whisper.

"Jealous?" Neil kidded, knowing full well that Andrew was anything but. The look he got from Andrew was cold and harsh. He didn’t deny anything. Neil swallowed nervously, "You are?"

Andrew breathed in through his nose. "Yes or no?" he asked.

The question repeated itself over and over in Neil's head. At first he didn't say anything, too overwhelmed that Andrew was giving him a choice to take something. He didn't know what it was. But that didn't he mean he didn't want it.

"Yes."

Andrew raised his hand and brushed his fingertips over Neil's jaw where the cut still had dried blood caked on his skin. He slid his fingers until Neil's ear was between Andrew's thumb and pointer finger. Neil leaned into the gentle touch. Slowly, Andrew brought his other hand to Neil's face. He slid his thumb under Neil’s eye.

"I thought they killed you," Andrew breathed. Neil almost didn't hear him. The muscles under Andrew’s jaw clenched like it hurt to say that. And maybe it did.

"I'm here," Neil whispered back.

He could have asked questions, could have demanded Andrew to explain. He didn't though, not when Andrew was giving him truths that did more harm than good. And although Andrew wore a mask that kept his emotions at bay, Neil knew he was in pain. That he had been for quite some time. And he knew for whatever reason Andrew couldn't say, that he was the cause of it.

Neil kept his hands in his lap as Andrew held his head. He smoothed the skin under his thumbs in circular motions. His palms were clammy against Neil's face. He didn't complain though, because it was Andrew.

That thought scared Neil. He knew the trust he had for Andrew was real and built on the past week or so. For Andrew it was something more. He showed it differently than Matt and Nicky, or the other couples in the Glade. Neil swallowed at the realization.

"You like me," Neil broke the silence between them. Andrew stilled. He withdrew his hands and crossed his arms over his chest. Neil wished he hadn't said anything. His stomach bottomed out in regret.

Andrew tapped his finger on his bent knee. It felt like an eternity before he said something, "I hate you."

Neil connected the pieces in his mind. The constant presence, the simple touches in the woods, the questions, the meals shared at the Box, the infirmary and the Maze. The longer he thought about it the more it broke apart. It didn't make sense. Andrew nearly cracked his ribs with a shovel. He was irritated by everything Neil did.

"That doesn't mean I wouldn't blow you," Andrew said.

Neil's face burned and he was hyper aware that there were people around them, most likely ease dropping.

"You didn't say anything," Neil stuttered. He kept his head low and stared at the bandages around his fingers that used to be white, now they were stained with blood and dirt.

"Why would I? Nothing will come of it."

"Nothing," Neil repeated.

"You don't swing."

Neil looked at Andrew. Just as he expected, Andrew was cold and distant. He leaned away from Neil.

What was he supposed to do with this? They were probably going to die any minute now. Andrew made it clear that they weren't friends. They were nothing. And Neil had accepted it. Now, it was like he was back to square one.

"Stop thinking," Andrew huffed. "Go to sleep."

Neil didn't know what to say. He wanted things to stay the same and was terrified this would ruin whatever they had.

He also wanted Andrew to touch him again.

"A-Andrew-"

Blue light flickered outside and cast long shadows from the boards onto the ceiling. Several rapid clicks echoed in the Glade and then a short screech made Neil's ears ring. The Grievers arrived. No one moved and no one spoke. The only thing that could be heard was the rapid breathing of twenty or more people on the third floor.

Neil thought of Jean in the Slammer. He hoped Jean would talk to him, just one word. But his head was quiet and that only made things worse.

With strained muscles, Neil twisted around to balance on his toes and hands. Andrew grabbed his sleeve.

The cracks between each plank were only wide enough to see the walls of the Maze. He tried looking to the left and right, then through the tallest crack. Wherever the Grievers were they were hiding.

Neil was fully standing now, straining to hear any horrific sounds of machines. The Glade was quiet once again. Sweat rolled down his neck and down his back. Neil's lips parted as he panted. After a while, Neil sat back down.

There was nothing else for maybe forty minutes. A large snap startled everyone. A few people jumped to their feet, including Neil. The low rumble of an engine followed by another snap. Neil listened to the Griever's work their way through the Glade, destroying huts as they went.

A loud and heavy thud sounded from the ceiling. Neil crouched quickly as the Griever rolled on the roof. Pots and pans clanged together like wind chimes. He wanted to rip the fucking things down.

The pitter-patter of the Grievers legs ran across the middle of the kitchen and down the wall where Andrew and Neil were. Neil heard the scratch of metal and felt the vibrations as its legs carved into the side of the building. He covered his nose and mouth with a trembling hand, afraid it could hear him breathe. The smell and texture of dried blood against his skin almost made him wretch.

The light was blocked as the Griever crawled over the window. It's disgusting scent of burning flesh and rubber made his eyes water. Other Grievers scaled the walls of Homestead. They were everywhere. Their clicks echoed down the hall and stairs. Dust fell from the ceiling, dishes toppled over and shattered into pieces.

When it was almost unbearable, a loud gasp made Neil turn around. Someone stood in the doorway to the kitchen. They stepped inside, whipping their head from side to side. No one reacted more, all stunned.

The person walked in. “They'll kill you,” they said. Neil heart was close to imploding. It was Seth, alive and well and _here_. "They'll kill everyone!" he limped to the middle of the room, his right leg dragged behind him.

Neil smelt him first, the stench of body odor and iron.

"You," Seth said. He pointed in the direction of Dan and the other Keepers. He hobbled over. “This is your fault." Neil strained to see who he was talking about. His eyes fell on Kevin's tall and lean figure. "You did this!" Seth swung his right fist. His knuckles cracked against Kevin's jaw. Kevin dropped.

Someone, Neil guessed Matt, came to his senses and shoved Seth back. He stumbled and fell onto his knees. It didn't take him long to regain his footing. He swirled around, taking in the terrified faces around him.

"We can't solve it," Seth groaned. Behind him Kevin was helped to his feet. "The Maze... They'll kill you, one a night until we're all gone."

"Seth," Allison's soothing voice traveled through the tense room. A Griever rolled on the ceiling. Another ran across a window. "Seth. Listen to me. You need to be quiet.”

"You don't get it," Seth shook his head. "All is their fucking variables... They'll kill us. They'll kill you. Allison, they’ll kill you. I can’t let them!”

Screaming the last word, Seth sprinted forwardto the window that happened to be a few feet from Neil. He started tearing at the boards. He rammed his shoulder against it and it split in half.

"Stop!” A girl Neil didn't know the name of yelled and charged at Seth.

Before she could reach him, Seth ripped the board off and swung it around. It connected with her head and sent her sprawling back. Blood splattered and people screamed. The girl's body fell hopelessly onto the floor in a crumbled heap. Seth returned his attention to the window. He ripped another board off, leaving only one still nailed into the wall.

"Down stairs!" Dan yelled. "Go! Go!"

Their leader triggered everyone to move. People ran into the hallway. They dragged the girl away. Everyone but Neil, Andrew, and Allison left the kitchen.

"Seth!" Allison yelled as he tore off the last board.

The board was thrown to the side. Neil could see Seth now. His clothes were torn to shreds, cuts criss crossed down his arms, and his eyes were dark and hollow.

A Griever squealed and flung itself through the window. Neil scrambled back but his feet caught in the discarded blankets. He fell onto his side. He looked back to see a nightmare.

The Griever twisted and raged, it's body stuck in the small opening. It's legs reached out and scratched at anything it could reach. Spikes slid out from its back. The mouth opened in a wet, slimes hole as it screamed. Standing calmly in front of it, Seth began to speak. And the Griever stilled to listen.

"No one understands," he sounded like he'd given up. "No one understands."

Seth turned, and the last thing he saw was Allison sobbing as he stepped back. The Griever immediately took hold of his body, arms retracting and pulling Seth into its wet skin. Seth sank into the burning flesh. He disappeared as the Griever curled around his body. Allison screamed, she lunged for her boyfriend. Neil scrambled to his feet and wrapped his arms around her waist before she could reach the Griever. They crashed to the floor.

"No!" she screamed. She kicked and scraped her nails down Neil's arms. "Seth!"

With a surprising speed, the Griever pushed itself from the window and fell back to the Glade. Neil let go of Allison then, she ran to the window. The last of any hope left her as she sunk to the floor, her nails raked down the wallpaper.

Andrew shoved her out of the way. Neil didn't process what he was doing until it was too late. He jumped out of the window. Neil was frozen for a few seconds too long. He rushed forward and ignored Allison's broken cries. Andrew sprinted across the Glade, he followed the Grievers which were rolling into the North door.

Neil turned and ran down the stairs. There was chaos in the infirmary. Kids were crying and screaming. Neil tripped down the second flight of stairs.

"Neil!" Renee's wild eyes met his. "Allison. Where is she?"

Neil shook his head, confused from his own panic and hysteria. Renee jaw set and she pushed him aside. She ran up the stairs. Neil shoved his way through the foyer to the door. He had forgotten the exit was blocked with metal, now severely dented from the Grievers.

"Shit," he panted. He looked around furiously for anything to break it down.

"Where's Andrew?" Aaron yelled amongst the screams of everyone else. Their eyes locked, and Aaron seemed to understand.

Neil stuck his hands through the cracks of a boarded window and pulled with all his weight. It splintered but didn't give. He stepped back and ran shoulder first into the wood. Nothing.

"Move!"

Neil did. Aaron cracked the board in half with the heel of his foot. Together, they tore the pieces off. Aaron ripped the other one down. With the window clear, Neil dragged himself through. A stitch popped and he felt blood trickle down his back. As soon as he hit the ground, he ran. Aaron chased after him.

Neil ran into the Maze, the walls passed him in a gray blur. He followed the sounds of the Grievers, sliding on his feet as he took each turn too fast.

Suddenly the wind was knocked out of Neil and he went flying. He landed harshly and smacked his forehead against the stone. Neil blinked away the dancing lights from his vision.

Andrew wrapped one arm around his stomach, heaving. He lay flat on his back and stared up at the sky. Neil crawled over, fighting against the spinning ground beneath him.

"'Drew?" Neil slurred. He tasted blood in his mouth. He must have bit his tongue. Andrew didn't respond, and it made Neil panic more. His hands were trembling so violently that they shook the rest of his body. "Are you hur'?" Neil didn't touch him, only hovered his hands inches away from his chest.

Finally, Andrew pushed his upper half up with his free hand. "No," he sighed.

Neil didn't believe him. He scanned over Andrew's clothes for any bleeding or scratches.

"Calm down," Andrew said. Neil couldn't contain his panic. Andrew clasped the back of Neil's neck. He brought their foreheads together until they touched. "I’m not hurt."

A long raged sigh escaped Neil's lips. He let himself relax in Andrew's grip. After a minute, they found the strength to stand. Neil faced Aaron, who was watching them with a scowl. He looked them over once.

"What in the shit were you thinking?" Aaron demanded. "Did you want to get yourself killed?"

Andrew rolled his eyes, "Of course not. I had to make sure."

Aaron raised his eyes brows to let Andrew know he didn't know what he meant.

"The Griever Hole," Andrew explained. "Kevin was right. Cocky bastard would love to hear me say that."

Neil said, "So, Seth-"

"Is dead," Andrew said. "But we know where they took him.”

“Fuck,” Aaron muttered. He swept his hand over his face.

“Cheer up, brother dear,” Andrew began the walk back to the Glade. “Be glad it wasn’t you.”

They walked together. Neil glanced at Andrew every few seconds just to remind himself that he was still there. Aaron made it known that he didn’t want to be anywhere near Neil. Neil didn’t mind.

As they turned the corner to the door, Neil sniffed the air.

“Do you smell that?” Neil asked.

They jogged down the corridor. Ashes drifted down from the sky and landed on Neil’s hair. Past the Box, in front of the South door, the Map Room burned. Flames flickered out of the door like an oven. Neil covered his mouth and nose with his hand to block the smell.

_Neil_, Jean said in his head. _The Maze, it’s a code. It’s a code, Neil._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that was sad.
> 
> Sorry about the small wait, I had an exam and lab this week which took up most of my time. :/
> 
> Thank you for your support! Go ahead and leave a comment, let me know what you think so far!!


	13. Float

Neil's half of the hut was destroyed, the ceiling caved in and crushed everything underneath it. Matt's chair was reduced to a pile of splinters. Other than that, it wasn't so bad. The Builders could patch the ceiling easily. Except they had their hands full. Not one thing in the Glade was left untouched. Most of the other huts and hammocks were trampled. The Blood House's walls had holes the size of Grievers, Tree Groove's crops were ripped from their roots and scattered across the square. Animals wandered around. No one seemed to care enough to round them up.

Neil kicked through the debris. His duffel bag was buried under a mountain of rubble. Ignoring his sore muscles, he dug his hand under the broken bed frame. He continued to blindly search until he felt rough fabric brush against his fingertips. The strap caught on something and he ripped it free. Neil cringed as the thread tore. It left a small hole where the strap was originally sewed. He wiped the dust off with the back of his hand.

It was a dark day. Seth's death made it more gloom than Neil could handle. Although Seth wasn't loved by many, wasn't liked either, the Gladers still crowded in a circle around the Box for a moment of silence that lasted about a minute. Neil refused to look at their fake tears. They weren't crying because Seth lost his life, they were crying because it wasn't theirs.

The fire had just begun to die out. A few Gladers were ready with buckets of water just in case a rogue ember touched down on the grass or the Dead Heads. Andrew and Aaron spoke to Kevin while the last flame was doused with water. Neil didn't care about the maps at first, it seemed pointless that after years of drawing them they hadn't discovered one thing. Now he wished he had found the time to memorize them all.

While breakfast was served from the Foyer, Neil sneaked off to the Slammer. He walked with a limp that favored his throbbing ankle. Each step shot needles up his leg. He moved robotically, his arms stiff at his sides. His duffel bag dragged behind him. If he turned his bruised wrist even slightly, a sharp sting would make his hand spasm and shock his elbow. A migraine made him nauseous and dizzy. There was a high chance he had a concussion. He had to stop walking every so often just to catch his breath.

He thought he knew pain after that night in the Maze. This was worse. He felt dead. His body wasn't meant to keep going the way it did. And he was more than tempted to dig his own grave just to sleep. But what was the point in that? He'd been through worse, the scars on his body was a prime example of that. If Abram could be shot and still find the strength to run, then so could Neil.

A blanket was lazily thrown over the cell. Neil could see Jean's legs folded awkwardly so he could fit. His duffel slipped from his fingers, it toppled over on its side.

"_Finally_," Jean said in French as Neil pulled the blanket off. Jean rubbed his tired eyes.

Neil looked over his shoulder for anyone listening. When he turned back, Jean was staring up at him. He cut straight to the point. "_What code?_"

Jean sighed, "_I'm not sure. I was hoping you would know something._"

Fed up by both of their lack of memories, Neil groaned and stepped back. He thought for a moment. He wasn't very familiar with the Maze but there was a pattern Kevin had mentioned. He voiced his thoughts, "_We should talk to Kevin._"

"_No._"

"_He knows more about the Maze than I do._"

Whatever Jean was hiding from, Neil didn't have the energy for it. He pushed the duffel bag closer to the Slammer since he didn't want to carry it any further. There was nothing of importance inside except for bandages and clothes. Neil walked away with Jean staring at his back.

Kevin was still with the twins in front of the Map Room, which meant Neil had to walk all the way across the Glade. He grit his teeth and set off to his destination. He stumbled more than necessary. A young boy gave him a sympathetic look. Neil pushed on. He could _walk_ for fucks sake.

Kevin's left eye was swollen shut and bruises covered his entire face now. Seth had been a lot of things, but his right hook was impressive.

"Kevin," Neil said. The three boys stared at Neil as he hobbled over like a toddler. He noticed he was dragging his foot now. It was too painful to put any weight on his ankle so he balanced on his good leg. "Do you have a minute?"

Kevin swallowed, he glanced at Homestead and then back to Neil, "What for?"

Neil's irritation spiked, Kevin knew exactly what for. He clenched his jaw to keep it together. "Jean knows something about the Maze." He noticed Kevin's scarred hand twitched.

"Such good news," Andrew clapped Kevin's shoulder. Kevin flinched then shrugged Andrew off.

Kevin sighed, he lifted his hand to rub his face but apparently thought better of it and dropped his arm. "Let's just get this over with."

"We should call a Gathering," Aaron said before anyone could agree. "If it's important we all need to know."

Neil chewed on his lip and debated Aaron's proposal. There was no point in keeping this a secret. “Fine. But if you do anything to-"

"Yeah, I got it," Aaron glared. "I'll find Dan. Meet in the kitchen in five minutes."

Aaron spared one last look at Neil before he left. The Map Room still gave off a sickening heat. Sweat collected on Neil’s hair line. They all turned to meet Jean at the Slammer. Neil had forgotten about his ankle and steeped forward. He gasped and dropped to one knee. He buried his fingers in the dirt, needing something to hold onto while his ankle throbbed.

Neil shook his head, he squeezed his eyes shut and breathed in through his nose. He allowed himself only a few seconds. Standing was horrible. He swallowed back vomit and wiped the sweat dripping down his face with his forearm.

Kevin glared at Neil, “You look terrible.”

“Fuck you,” Neil huffed. It was the best comeback he could think of.

“Go to the infirmary and fix yourself up. I’ll get John.”

“Jean,” Neil corrected through clenched teeth. Kevin waved him off. He left Neil and Andrew alone.

“Come on,” Andrew said as he walked past Neil.

Neil did his best to keep up. It was a slow process of irritating sluggishness. Instead of going through Homestead’s front door like Neil expected, Andrew went around and opened the bathroom door. Neil couldn’t see the Slammer from where he was. He guessed Kevin had already gotten Jean.

Andrew pushed each curtain aside and kicked the stall doors open. The coast clear, Neil staggered inside.

“Stay here,” Andrew said.

Andrew made sure to put more distance between Neil than he usually would have as he left. The door slammed shut behind him, making Neil flinch involuntarily. Neil let the guilt sink in his stomach. He shouldn’t have said anything last night. Or was it only hours ago?

He didn’t have much time to gloat because Andrew was already back. He dropped Neil’s duffel bag at his feet.

“Hurry up,” Andrew said. “We won’t wait for you.” The door closed behind him once again.

-

It took a lot of energy to undress himself and remove the old bandages. He showered quickly, refusing to wash his hair and focusing solely on cleaning his wounds. There was a decent sized on his forehead. His hands were just beginning to scab over, which he was very relieved about. His back took a while to properly disinfect. He knew a stitch had ripped but he didn’t care as long as it wasn’t bleeding.

With clean clothes and fresh bandages, Neil felt more like himself, whoever that may be. He reluctantly stuffed his dirty clothes in his bag. Before he left, he brushed his teeth twice and combed his hair with his fingers.

Despite what Andrew said, the Keepers did wait for him. Matt had his arm around Dan’s shoulders, they both leaned back against the kitchen counters. Aaron watched Andrew raid the refrigerator for any left over food. He found nothing worth his while and slammed it shut. As always, Nicky was there since he was a friend of Andrew’s and no one was going to fight him about it.

Jean sat with Renee on the floor, which surprised Neil more than anything else. Renee said something to him and Jean returned a warm smile. There was no sign of Allison. Neil was glad he didn’t have to face her. Kevin kept himself separated from the rest. He had his arms crossed and the swelling on his eye hadn’t gone down. As much as he tried to hide it, he kept looking at Jean. When Neil stepped into the kitchen they all turned their heads.

“Start taking,” Dan said.

She put her hands on her hips to make her self appear more intimidating. Underneath it all, Neil knew something was bothering her. She shifted her weight from each foot. Neil moved on to Jean. He tried to signal Jean to speak but he refused.

_They don’t trust me,_ Jean said in his head.

Neil flinched as his voice made his head pound. He pressed the palms of his hands against his temples.

“Are you okay?” Nicky stepped forward.

“Yeah,” Neil breathed. “Just give me a minute.”

They did. When Neil could look up without feeling dizzy, he cleared his throat. Matt’s brows were knitted together in concern and he was more than ready to come to Neil’s aid.

“When Jean woke up,” Neil explained briefly, “he remembered little pieces. He remembered a code.”

“A code?” Renee asked. She crossed her legs as she looked at Jean. Jean shifted uncomfortably.

“Yes,” Neil snapped. He was tired of repeating himself.

“But how is it a code?” Nicky frowned. “I mean, wouldn’t we have figured it out by now?”

Neil chewed his bottom lip. He knew they were missing something. “Kevin. You compare each Section to the day before, right?”

“Right,” Kevin said.

“Have you ever compared them to other Sections?”

Kevin opened his mouth to speak then frowned.

“We did,” Andrew answered. Neil faced him. He sat on the counter with his feet in the sink. Matt watched in disgust.

“What do you mean we did?” Neil asked.

Andrew shrugged, bored with the situation.

“Either help us or leave,” Neil said coldly.

He heard Nicky gasp. They all probably thought Neil was crazy, but he didn’t have time to handle Andrew. The day was going by quick. The Grievers would most likely be back that night and they had to be ready. Andrew’s eyes dragged from Neil to Jean and back to Neil. Something glinted in them. He swung his legs over the counter and hopped down.

“Andrew,” Dan spoke in a low tone.

Andrew ignored her. He walked right up to Neil until he was practically forced against the wall. They were close enough to feel the others warmth. Andrew’s blonde hair was just long enough to cover his eyebrows. His eyes were irritated and the skin underneath them a light shade of purple. Neil was tempted to reach out and run his thumb under his eye like Andrew had done. He tried to keep his face stern, but Andrew continued to stare at him. Neil swallowed, a cold sweat broke out over his skin.

“Go get the maps, Kevin,” Andrew stepped back. Neil was able to breathe again. He ignored the odd looks from everyone.

The stairs creaked under Kevin’s weight as he went downstairs. Neil watched him disappear.

“I thought the maps burned,” Neil muttered.

“Oh, they did,” Andrew hummed.

“Care to elaborate on that?” Matt said.

“I do. Go ahead, Dan. We’re waiting.”

Dan tensed under Matt’s arm. Before anyone could say anything else, Kevin returned. He dropped a large crate on the floor and pushed it with his foot so it was in the middle of the room.

“They’re all there,” Kevin said. He bent down and unlatched the lock. In eight neatly stacked piles were the maps.

Neil rushed to them. He picked up the first one he saw. Section Two, Day 719. Julian.

“We compared them to each other only once,” Andrew said.

“Compared how? Which Sections?”

“One and two, two and three. We tried them all. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

Neil grabbed a map from each Section, making sure it was the same day. Jean was standing now, he watched Neil lay them out from one to eight on the floor. Neil had an idea. It was probably nothing but he had to try.

“I need something to write on,” Neil limped to the counters. Aaron moved out of his way. He opened the cupboard. “Matt, do you have any parchment paper?” Neil opened the next cupboard. A pot almost fell. Neil shut it quickly.

“Uh, I’ve got wax paper,” Matt reached above the refrigerator and pulled down a roll.

Neil grabbed it from him. He returned to the maps and crouched on the floor, his ankle limp behind him. He rolled out the paper and tore off eight pieces that were big enough to cover a map.

Neil said, “Does anyone have a-“

Renee held a black pen in front of Neil. He looked up to see everyone crowded around him. Neil took the pen and muttered a thank you.

“What are you doing?” Kevin asked.

Neil didn’t answer. He took the Section One map and did his best to trace the lines on the wax paper. Each time he brought the pen down, his hand trembled. He hoped it was from adrenaline and not his body shutting down.

With the first map traced, he moved on to Section Two. Andrew caught on. He dug through a drawer and found a black marker. He joined Neil on the floor, grabbed a piece of wax paper and Section Three’s map and began tracing the lines. They worked quickly together. Andrew was faster and more precise. He finished the rest of the Sections while Neil stacked the used wax papers on top of the other.

He made sure Section One was on the bottom and kept them in order until there were eight stacked together. Gradually, the black lines crossed each other in a random patten. The lines that were frequently in the same place created a darker image. It was subtle, he would have missed it if he wasn’t paying attention.

Neil held them up to the light pouring between a boarded window. In the center of the pages, hastily drawn out, was the letter F.

“Holy shit,” Kevin whispered.

_Genius_, Jean said in Neil’s head.

Relief rushed through Neil. He placed the pile on the floor beside him and sat down. The Keepers were stunned into silence.

“It could be a coincidence,” Aaron muttered. No one denied it. “Let’s do the rest.”

Neil watched Aaron dig through the crate. He grabbed the maps labeled Day 720. He knelt down beside his brother. Andrew took a map. Neil tore off eight more pieces of wax paper.

“I’m taking the Runners in the Maze,” Kevin announced.

Neil nodded and stood without question. He dropped the torn piece of paper in front of Aaron. “Okay, I’ll get my backpack,” he said.

“You’re staying here,” Kevin said.

“What? Why?”

“Neil, you can barely walk,” Matt said.

Neil glanced down at himself. He felt better. Besides, he just climbed two flights of stairs. “I’m fine,” Neil said.

“Don’t bullshit us,” Kevin said sternly. “You’re staying here to rest. Aaron will decide if you’re okay to run by tomorrow or not.”

Neil glanced at Aaron who had on a smug smirk. He doubted Aaron would release him.

“Listen to your Keeper,” Dan said to Neil. “But I can’t help either, I need to get the Glade back on schedule. It’s fucking chaos out there.”

Renee chimed in, “My Builders are working on the animal pens right now. I should check on Allison before I go back to work.”

Dan nodded in agreement. She held out her watch and read the time. “We’ll all meet back here in six hours. Got it?”

“Andrew?” Kevin questioned.

“Hm, not in the mood to go for a run,” Andrew said as he traced a map.

Kevin shook his head like he expected that answer. He left the kitchen to find his Runners. Neil fought the urge to go with him. He had a sick feeling that if Kevin got hurt, no one would be around to know. Dan and Renee left as well. 

“I’m going to borrow Nicky, is that alright?” Matt asked. Nicky sighed, annoyed that he couldn’t stay. The twins didn’t answer so Matt took it as a yes. He dragged Nicky downstairs by his sleeve.

Jean helped as best he could, he folded the rolled wax paper into equal sizes then tore them off for Aaron or Andrew to use. Neil sat back down in his spot, Jean to his left and the brothers in front of him. Andrew didn’t look up, but Aaron stared at him.

“What?” Neil asked.

“Are you in pain?” Aaron asked.

Neil hid his surprise from the question. Aaron was just doing his job, he didn’t care.

“I’m-“

“Say you’re fine and I’ll throw you off the fucking roof,” Andrew said without looking up from his work. Jean grunted in approval.

Neil clenched and unclenched his jaw. “I have a headache.”

It was true, he did. What he didn’t say was his ankle felt like it was repeatedly being beaten with a hammer. His shoulder screamed every time he moved, and his wrist burned so intensely he wanted to cut it off. Aaron left the kitchen without another word. He came back holding a glass of water and two white pills in one hand. He held them out for Neil.

“Pain killers,” Aaron said when Neil didn’t take them. “They’re not strong.”

Aaron dropped the pills in Neil’s palm. He swallowed them both with a gulp of water. It was cold, and he didn’t realize how thirsty he actually was. He chugged the rest of it. Andrew had lined up the new stack of papers. The ink criss crossed to form an L.

Feeling less light headed, Neil collected the maps for the next few days. Arron and Andrew took charge in tracing since Neil couldn’t hold the pen long enough to do so. Jean organized the wax papers, he wrote down the day in each corner.

After the L, there was an O, then an A, and a T. By the time they discovered the T an hour and a half had passed. They were all tired and frustrated. Aaron snapped at Jean more than once for literally nothing. Neil told him to shut the hell up. To their surprise, Andrew let them bicker.

The cooks came to prepare lunch. They maneuvered around the papers and left the boys alone. Matt wasn’t with them, Neil wondered what he was doing with Nicky. For two days of maps, there were no letters. Neil almost gave up until Jean said there was a C. The new letter encouraged them to pick up their speed again.

They found another A, T, C, and H. Float and catch. Neil read the two words over and over again. Float. Catch. Float. Catch.

_This isn’t making sense_, Jean whispered in his head. Neil looked at Jean.

_Can you hear me?_ Neil dragged out each word in his head. He felt ridiculous. _Hello?_

Jean’s eyes widened and he nodded. Andrew watched them skeptically as he grabbed another map.

_It’s choppy, but I can hear you_, Jean said.

Chills ran down Neil’s spine. He regretted what he had just done. Now he questioned if Jean could hear all of his thoughts.

They didn’t take a break for lunch. The cooks simply let them take what they wanted before bringing the food to the rest of the Gladers. Neil picked at a roll. Jean ate a whole meal, it being the first he had since waking up.

An hour passed after the cooks cleaned up. They found another word, bleed. No one commented on it.

Each word took about an hour. By the end of it, they had them all laid out.

FLOAT

CATCH

BLEED

DEATH

STIFF

PUSH

That was all of it. Six words. And they knew they had finished because three days after H, the sequence repeated itself.

Andrew laid on his back, eyes closed and marker still between his fingers. He was exhausted.

“Now what?” Aaron yawned. He stretched his arms above his head. Jean yawned right after, he sat against a wall.

“I don’t know,” Neil admitted. He tugged his hair, frustrated.

The Keepers arrived right on time. They all were tired and dirty. Renee’s shoes were caked in something Neil hoped was mud. Allison was with her. She ignored them all and sat on a counter. Her hair was up in a messy bun, she wore the same clothes from the day before. She reeked of grief and misery.

Matt wrapped his arms around Dan’s waist and held her against him. Dan didn’t seem to mind, she covered his hands with her own. Kevin was the last to show, he was red in the face and dripping in sweat. His backpack was still strapped to his chest and he collapsed on the floor.

“What happened?” Neil pressed.

Kevin sucked in a deep breath and shook his head. Sweat flew off his hair. “Grievers ran right past me, like they were fucking with me. The guys and Kallie said the same thing.”

Neil’s shoulders sagged at the bad news. He thought at least the Maze would open a new exit. Or give them another clue.

“Is this all of it?” Renee read the code.

“Cheerful, oui?” Jean asked.

Renee shrugged, “I expected worse.”

They needed something else. There was more to the code, Neil was just missing it. Neil staggered back when it hit him. A crazy, horrible idea that he didn’t think he would have to go through with.

Matt detached himself from Dan to put a hand on Neil’s shoulder. Thankfully, it was the one that didn’t hurt. “You good, dude?”

“Y-yeah,” Neil stuttered. Matt squeezed his shoulder, unconvinced.

He didn’t tell them his plan. But he had already decided on it. They needed his memories. He had to go though the Changing.

-

An hour before the doors were scheduled to close, the Keepers ordered everyone inside Homestead. They began the same preparations from before: repairing the damaged boarded windows, nailing down the barricade, passing out flashlights and weapons. The cooks made a simple dinner of sandwiches and fried slices of potatoes.

When Andrew was distracted by helping Renee and the Builders, Neil climbed the stairs to the third floor. Matt didn’t notice Neil walk by the kitchen. He was currently washing the remaining dishes and storing them in the cupboards instead of the shelves. The other cooks took down the pots and pans.

Besides them, the floor was empty. Neil took refuge in the pantry. It was relatively quiet except for the distant banging of hammers and wood. Neil’s hands trembled in his lap. He was glad to get away, he didn’t want Andrew wondering why he was so nervous. He supposed everyone was anxious for tonight too. If what Seth said was true, then another Glader would be killed in a few hours. 

Jean somehow found Neil in his hiding spot. Neil sat on the floor, careful not to press against the worse of his injuries. He didn’t look up until Jean sat across from him. Their shoes almost touched in the small closet.

“_What are you thinking?_” Jean asked in a low voice.

“_Something crazy_,” he muttered truthfully. Neil’s chest squeezed so tight it was hard to speak. “_I’ll need your help._” Jean waited for Neil to continue, “_Don’t let the Grievers take me tonight._”

Jean took a second to process what Neil said. “_You’re right, that is crazy._”

“_Will you help me?_”

“_Yes,_” Jean said without hesitation.

“_Good. Sit with me tonight. When the Grievers get here I’ll get their attention. Wait until I tell you to come get me, I don’t want anyone getting hurt. Make sure Aaron has the Serum. If I don’t get it in time, or the Grievers take me, then I’m-_“ he swallowed a lump in his throat.

“_Then you’re dead,_” Jean finished for him.

Neil sighed, he dropped his head back against the wall and stared at the old lightbulb screwed in the ceiling. “_Wouldn’t that be disappointing?_”

Jean shrugged, “_Disappointing? Yes. Surprising? No._”

“_You’re terrible at pep talks._”

He was quiet for a while. “_We all die eventually. Seems like a waste to fear it._”

Neil wasn’t necessarily afraid of dying. Death had chased him his whole life apparently. How could he be scared of an old friend? No, the thing that scared him was the Changing. More importantly, what happened after.

“_Kevin doesn’t seem to remember me,_” Jean blurted out.

Neil shook his head. “_I think he’s good at pretending. He might not know you, but he definitely recognizes you. You should have seen how he reacted seeing me for the first time. It was like he saw a ghost._”

“_What do you think he remembers?_”

Neil tore a piece of dried skin off his lip. “_From what I can tell, nothing really. Him and Andrew had an argument in the Maze. Kevin made it pretty obvious he believes Andrew is the reason we’re still here. He didn’t mention anything else._”

“_Andrew_,” Jean rubbed his face. “_The rude, short, blonde one?_”

“_Yeah_,” Neil cleared his throat. “_He went through the Changing a while ago._”

“_That explains the way he is then._”

Anger bubbled up in his throat. He didn’t hold back. “_Wouldn’t you be a little different if you knew everything and couldn’t talk about it? And if you tried there’s a chance you’d kill your self? You don’t know what he’s been through. It isn’t fair to judge him._”

Jean’s eyes widened the more Neil spoke. When he was finished, Jean dropped the surprised expression. “_You’re right_.” He hesitated before saying, “_You two seem close._”

Neil’s cheeks warmed and he ducked his head. “_I’m not talking about Andrew with you._”

“_Of course_.”

Jean shuffled around until he was on his knees. He stared at Neil for a moment then used a shelf to pull himself up.

“_You won’t die_,” Jean said. “_I don’t think they’d let you._”

-

For half an hour, Neil was alone. He let his nerves get the best of him. Andrew’s knife felt heavier in his hand. He dug his thumbnail in the A. He wanted to believe Jean that he wouldn’t die. Though there was still a high chance he wouldn’t get the Serum in time. But Dan survived a night in the Maze without it. He’ll be fine. He was fine.

When people started filing into the kitchen, Neil knew it was almost time. He forced himself to stand. The pain killers were beginning to kick in and he moved without flinching.

Neil sat in the same spot. Everyone else did as well. Andrew didn’t acknowledge Neil, he kicked Nicky’s leg and sat down with him and Aaron instead. Neil tried to act like he didn’t notice. In a way, he was glad Andrew wasn’t by him. Maybe he would try to stop his plan. Or maybe he didn’t want to be around Neil at all. Whatever the reason, Neil pushed it aside for the time being.

A couple minutes of people situating themselves passed and Jean eventually found his way to Neil. They sat close together, knees and elbows touching. Jean took up a lot more room than Andrew did. A girl who sat in front of them gave Jean a frustrating look as she scooted further away.

_You should practice_, Jean said in Neil’s mind.

Neil glared at him and he glared right back. He knew Jean was right. His life depended on it. “Fine,” Neil muttered.

Flashlights clicked off after Dan made a big example out of it.

_Jean_, Neil thought. He closed his eyes and tried his best to focus. He imagined his voice traveling through the air and directly into Jean’s ear. _I hate this_. When Jean didn’t say anything, Neil relaxed the tension in his shoulders and tried again, _You look ridiculous_.

_Says the guy who looks like he was hit by a train_, Jean said. He nudged Neil with his shoulder.

A train. Neil frowned and tried to picture a train. He knew it was something like a car except it was longer and louder.

Jean sensed his confusion, _Get some sleep. I’ll wake you when they’re here_.

Neil didn’t need to be told twice. He was so exhausted he fell asleep almost instantly.

-

As it turns out, Jean didn’t have to. The Grievers were loud enough to wake even the dead. Everyone crawled away from the windows and huddled together. Neil balanced on his toes and hands, ready to spring into action at a moments notice. Jean crouched next to him. Neil didn’t dare focus on Andrew’s persistent stare in the dark, or Dan’s quiet instructions to stay still. He closed his eyes and listened to the Grievers engine’s rumbling in the distance.

The air in the kitchen was thick and heavy. Everyone tensed, waiting for the inevitable. Grievers wasted no time in the Glade, presumably satisfied with how they had left it. The first one to reach Homestead climbed the side of the building and rolled on the roof. With the pots and pans in the cabinets, it was quieter but not at all less terrifying. It climbed over a window and cast a dark shadow. He saw its tail flick before it disappeared.

Multiple Grievers reached Homestead at the same time. Their metal legs carved into the wood. The building shook and groaned. Someone whimpered behind him.

A loud boom sounded from the second floor. There were screams and frantic footsteps of people running. A dozen kids rushed upstairs. Neil quickly jumped up as they fled into the kitchen. He was surrounded by bodies, their limbs hitting him in the side and nearly knocking him over. He lost sight of Jean. Another crash. The floor shook.

“They’ve got Lucy!” Someone screamed.

That was enough to wake Neil from his daze. He elbowed people out of his way, relentlessly pushing them aside. The stair case was jammed full of people. Without a railing, Neil was able to squeeze through the small opening between the third floor and the top of the stair case. He landed on one of the counters, he jumped down and scanned the infirmary.

There was a gaping whole where a window used to be. The bed underneath it was crushed from the weight of a Griever. Feathers floated in the air. Outside, the Grievers tucked in their legs and rolled. Neil had to hurry.

A deep breath, a crouch, and a sprint. He jumped over the splintered wood and out into the Glade. The fall was short and quick. Neil tried to brace himself, but the blunt force shocked his knees and he crashed.

He heard Gladers yell as they watched Neil drag himself onto his hands and knees. He saw the Griever that had Lucy, rolling directly to the West door with its companions. Her small hand poked out of the black oozing skin and spikes. Her fingers wiggled slightly. She was still alive.

Neil sprinted to her. In a matter of seconds he was surrounded by Grievers. They unraveled themselves and watched as Neil dove right for Lucy. Her head was the only other part of her body that was still visible. Black puss coated her hair and skin. The white of her eyes glinted. She looked at Neil, terrified and delirious. He was close. Lucy reached for Neil.

The Griever’s tail whirled in front of Neil before he could get to her. Its spike buried itself in Lucy’s skull. A gush of blood sprayed Neil, her hand went limp. The Griever uncurled itself. It pulled Lucy out with her body skewered on its tail. A metal _shing_ rang in Neil’s ears as she was thrown off and smacked into the stone wall. Neil’s eyes widened in horror. Where her body had hit there was a splatter of blood. She fell and landed at the bottom of the wall in a pile of broken bones.

Neil didn’t see the Griever behind him. He was lifted off his feet, a tail wrapped around his waist and squeezed. He twisted and kicked. Like a snake, it pulled Neil into its awaiting body. He screamed as dozens of needles pricked his arms and legs. He couldn’t see anything for a moment. Its wet flesh burned him as his arms sunk deep into the black goo.

Just as quick as the Griever had took hold of him, it tossed him to the side. He landed on the ground and slid a few feet before skidding to a stop on his back. The Grievers scurried down the corridor into the Maze, leaving behind Neil and Lucy.

His body convulsed in pain. He felt it everywhere. It was like fire, his skin burned so hot he was sure it was melting off. Every muscle in his body cramped and all he could do was groan. His throat swelled and blocked off air flow. He was quickly loosing consciousness.

_Now!_ Neil screamed in his head. No response. Darkness started to close in around him. _Now, Jean! Jean!_

The Glade disappeared and the darkness swallowed him whole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait!! Not my best chapter, but I needed something to transition into the next one.
> 
> The next chapter is gonna be heavy, it’s gonna be a lot. You’ve been warned.
> 
> I hope you still enjoyed this chapter though!! Leave a comment if you didn’t, if you did, if you’re nervous for the next one, etc. Thank you for the kudos and support!! <3


	14. The Changing

The city was deserted. Sky scrapers leaned on each other, buildings were knocked over, cars were buried underneath sand. It was a perfect place to spend the night while the storm passed. Abram had been on traveling East for the past few days. He was almost out of food, he only had a granola bar and half a canteen of water left. It should have been the perfect place to rest.

He walked underneath two skyscrapers that had fallen at just the right time. They connected in the middle and supported the other. Abram gazed up at the surreal sight. He wondered if he threw something at it would they finally give way and fall.

The wind started to pick up. He placed his old googles over his eyes. They were hard to see through with the glass scratched from years of use but it blocked out the sand. He tied his bandanna behind his head and positioned it over his nose and mouth. Then he pulled on the hood of his jacket, he tucked in his brown hair out of habit.

He kept his right hand close to the glock strapped on his waist as he scanned his surroundings. The moon was half way in the sky now and the stars slowly appeared one by one. He walked a few more blocks, and just as he seemed content that it was safe an alarm blared.

Panicking, he spun in a circle looking for the source. Across the street on a balcony he spotted a red dot and a black box. Now that he knew what he was looking for, he saw them everywhere. He ran.

The moon provided enough light to avoid tripping over street lamps that poked out of the sand. In the distance, he could see a helicopters blinking lights. The alarm continued to ring. Abram pushed harder, the heels of his old leather boots kicked up dust behind him.

He squeezed through a barb wired fence which was once used as a checkpoint. Across the square, a ten story building laid on its side. A large sand dune covered half of the structure. Most of the windows were shattered. It was pitch black inside, the walls groaned from the harsh winds. Abram pressed his sun burned hand over the strap of his gun.

It was a stupid idea, he should have known the city wouldn't be empty. The next question was who controlled this area. The chance it was who he was thought it could be was slim. But Abram's life is a series of misfortunes.

Behind him, a car flickered it's headlights. Abram didn't waste any more time. He sprinted to the building. His shoes sunk into the sand as he desperately climbed the hill. He went for the fire escape. It was rusted and the red paint peeled off when Abram touched it.

A bright light shined on him. The car rammed the checkpoint, breaking the fence and allowing a dozen or so men to run through. They had rifles strapped to their chests. They dressed in black. Abram didn't need to read the word on their helmets, the red letters were enough.

"Fire!"

Abram managed to leap over the fire escape and dive into a window as they emptied their magazines. He dropped to the floor and protected his head with his arms. Bullets sprayed the hallway. Pieces of dry wall chipped and scattered. Abram curled in a ball and waited.

When the bullets came to a stop after a long two minutes, Abram slowly sat up. He panted, his heart pounded against his chest. His instincts told him to run, but he was most likely surrounded. Above him the helicopter flew in circles, as if tempting him to try.

The wind whistled and shook the old building. Abram leaned back against the wall, he poked his head over the window. At the bottom of the sand dune, six men started to crawl towards him. They were obviously heavier than Abram since they sunk into the sand. One must have gotten irritated because they aimed their gun in Abram's direction. Abram ducked. A short round of bullets narrowly missed his head.

"Cease fire! Cease fire!"

The bullets stopped right away. He counted.

_One._

He unholstered the glock and took a deep breath. The bandana sucked in between his lips as he did.

_Two._

He raised the gun to his chest and cocked it. He heard the bullet pull into the chamber.

_Three._

He jumped to his feet and aimed for the closest target. It was like second nature to him after years of practice. He pulled the trigger. The first bullet missed. He crouched into a better stance and fired again. It hit their shoulder and they fell back. He saw another raise their rifle. Abram quickly fired two shots, hitting them in the chest. The momentum knocked them back but Abram assumed they were all protected by vests. He counted every shot. Ammunition was hard to come by and he had to use it sparingly.

Glass shattered above him. Two small objects flew though the air. They went off as soon as they hit the floor. He was blinded for about five seconds. He crawled on the floor away from the window, his ears ringing. A black boot crushed his hand holding the gun. They kicked away his last line of self defense.

His arms were tied behind his back, a knee held him down between his shoulder blades. A cold barrel pressed against his temple. They shouted at him. Abram blinked in a daze.

Then he was pulled to his feet and dragged through the window. By the time he could see again, they shoved him down the hill. He lost his balance and tumbled down.

Disorientated, he groaned and used his core strength to sit back on his knees. A dozen or more guns trained on him with their fingers on the triggers. They closed in on him until someone yelled at them to stop. Another car drove through the checkpoint, it parked in front of Abram. The heads lights were dull in the raging storm.

The car door opened. Kengo Moriyamma stepped out. His skin sagged from age and wrinkles creased his forehead and around his hooded eyes. He wore a long black coat that covered a well tailored suit. His hair blew to one side. Abram hadn't expected him.

Kengo was like an old horror story used to scare Abram, he wasn't supposed to be here. He wasn't supposed to be away from the coast. Yet there he stood. Abram panicked and turned to run. A handle of a rifle struck his jaw. His head jerked to the side, he tasted iron. He spit out the blood pooling in his mouth. When he looked back, Kengo towered above him.

Two sets of hands wrapped around Abram's biceps and lifted him to his feet. They pulled down his hood. Instantly it was harder to hear again with the wind clogging his eardrums. In such close proximity, Kengo's cologne choked Abram. He grabbed Abram's chin with a grip meant to hurt. He turned his head to each side, and then yanked down the bandana. Kengo reached up to take off his goggles. He tossed them to the side. Kengo analyzed his features. Abram prayed to whoever was listening that the dry contacts and old dye were enough.

Kengo nodded and turned his back.

A black bag was thrown over Abram's head.

-

He lived in the dark for a long time.

Time quickly lost its meaning the moment he woke up. A dull ache spread from his jaw to his head. With his hands free, he pushed himself to his feet. he felt every inch of the room he washeld hostage in. The tiles were cold and cracked. In one corner a vent blew a gentle breeze. He squeezed his fingers through the metal and pulled with all his strength. He kicked it. He clawed at the bolts until his nails were bleeding and raw.

He couldn't feel the cracks of a door or switch for a light. The ceiling was too high for him to reach even if he jumped.

He'd given up. Abram curled in a ball in the corner. He tried to catch his breath, but it was near impossible. He pulled at his hair.

"I'm sorry," he whispered to himself.

-

Abram stood there, in the presence of four men, all whom he couldn't see the faces of. Three of them surrounded him, they wore black suits and leather dress shoes. The fourth walked with a cane behind him.

It was the first time he'd seen the room with light. Abram kept his head low and eyes glued to the floor. He saw the vent to his left. It was small and screwed shut. If he could get something to loosen the bolts, maybe he could crawl through and find a way out.

"Nathaniel Wesninski," the man behind him said in a calm tone.

A fist connected to the side of Abram's skull. His neck snapped violently, the room spun and he stumbled. One of the men yanked him up by his shoulder, it twisted unnaturally and a nerve pulled. Abram bit down on his tongue to keep back a cry.

The soles of the man's shoes tapped the floor as he walked. Tetsuji Moriyama stepped in front of him, dressed in his usual black suit with a decorative cane in his right hand. Abram clenched his fists at his sides. Tetsuji looked just as Abram remembered him. He hadn't aged at all. He tried to jerk away but the men kept him in place.

"Kneel," Tetsuji said.

"No," Abram sneered.

A blow to the stomach. The punch landed on a wound that hadn't healed yet. Abram gasped and doubled over. He would have dropped to the floor if it wasn't for the hand hooked under his bicep. Someone, Abram didn't know who, grabbed the back of his hair and pulled his head back. Abram blinked at the ceiling. His left eye was swollen shut.

"You will kneel," Tetsuji said.

"Make me," Abram threatened.

A hand on his shoulder squeezed painfully. Abram didn't let it bother him, he couldn't distract himself. Tetsuji gave the slightest nod. Someone kicked the back of his leg and Abram was forced on his knees. They shoved him down by his shoulders. He struggled at first, but then Tetsuji lifted Abram's chin with the bottom of his cane. He could do nothing but look up.

"You're going to wish you died with your mother," Tetsuji spoke with poison in his words.

"Fuck you," Abram gritted out.

He saw the cane reel back.

-

Abram pulled on the ropes tied around his wrists and ankles. The springs in the mattress dug into his back. The room was dark, like it had been since Tetsuji. For all he knew he'd been there for weeks or months. He figured it didn't matter, not while he was in his own personal hell.

His clothes barely hung to his body. They were torn to shreds, soaked in sweat and blood. Like clockwork, Wicked's men would come to beat him senseless. Abram managed to get a snarky comment in every once in a while, but it only resulted in him blacking out from a steel toe to the head or a choke hold.

They've never done this though. Abram was surprised it took so long. A few were crowded around him, he heard their breathes and felt their stares. His skin rubbed raw from his restraints.

"Nathaniel," someone said.

This voice was different, younger and more eager. It was oddly familiar, something from the depths of his memories. Riko. Panic swelled in Abram's chest and he turned his head away. Bad choice. A leather glove grabbed his chin, they held his head in place. A switchblade sprang free. Riko pressed it against Abram's cheek.

"We don't have a lot of time," Riko said. Abram could hear his smile. "I promised the master to have you in line before you start on the Trials.”

Abram didn't understand what he was talking about. He fought back a flinch when Riko pressed the knife down.

"Who is your King?" Riko asked.

Abram spat in their face, hoping it was Riko's. There was a silence that shook him to his core. His body trembled as it threatened to shut down right then and there. His shirt was pushed up by cold, nimble fingers. They exposed his black and purple torso. Abram tried to get away but there was nowhere to hide.

"I’m going to make this as terrible as I know how,” Riko growled. “When it’s too much for you, don’t hesitate to cry.”

The tip of the blade pressed above his naval, it was a sharp pain that trailed up to his rib cage. Abram kept his lips sealed as his blood dribbled down his stomach and onto the mattress. Another knife touched his skin. About an inch of the dull metal dug underneath his flesh. They pulled the knife down, skinning him alive. A scream bubbled out of his throat. He jerked his body back, the blade ripped itself free.

Riko's gloved hand pressed into the wound. Hot tears fell from the corner of his eyes. Riko dug his fingers into his flesh. Abram squirmed just to find some sort of relief. The blood made Riko's grip slick but he pinched the skin and tore the muscle by hand. A mix of sobs and screams poured from his lips. It was blinding. He couldn't think, he couldn't focus on what Riko was saying.

This continued for hours. Riko cut deep gashes into his body. He pressed his fingers into each one. He tore him apart until Abram passed out.

-

He lived like an animal. He was fed only enough to keep him alive. Quickly, he lost body fat and muscle mass. His bones stuck out and it hurt to lay down. His hair grew longer, nearly touching his shoulders. The old brown hair dye must have looked horrendous, but Abram forgot about that too.

Riko was having his fun dragging his knives across Abram's raw skin while two other pairs of hands held him down. The light was on, so he could see them for the first time. Riko wore his leather gloves and smiled as Abram screamed. The tattoo crinkled when he laughed, and when blood somehow got on his face, he would leave it there.

Kevin, Riko's favorite, stood to the left of the old bed frame Abram was tied to. Kevin had bruises covering his jaw. His hands were steady as they held Abram down even as he desperately tried to get away. Kevin never looked at Abram. He never watched Riko slice him open. Abram cherished those moments with Kevin, he liked knowing he was hurting someone. So he stared at Kevin while he bled out on the mattress.

-

"King," Abram croaked when he reached his breaking point. He didn't recognize his voice, raw from screaming. His torso was slick with blood.

"Say it again," Riko wiped his knife clean across Abram's cheek and lips.

Abram was careful not to move, afraid that Riko would stab his eye. He must have waited too long. Riko jabbed a knuckle at an oozing wound under his rib cage.

"King," Abram gasped. He jerked away. "King. King."

"That's right, I am your King," Riko smiled, and for good measure, slapped Abram so hard he saw stars. "Learn from this, Nathaniel."

Abram kept his head to the side and waited. Riko and Kevin spoke in a different language, he guessed Japanese. And then they were gone, all but one.

The one who stayed behind Abram didn't know the name of. Riko never spoke directly to him. Compared to Kevin, he was in worse shape. Both of his eyes were bruised black and blue. His fingers were shaped unnaturally and scarred, like they had been broken countless of times. He stitched Abram up like he did every night after Riko finished. Abram's body trembled, his ribs jutted and his stomach was sunken in.

Somehow, he found the courage to speak to him.

"What do they do to you?" Abram whispered.

The man flicked his gray eyes to the side nervously. His bottom lip was cracked and caked in dried blood. The three inked on his cheek bone was almost indivisible beneath his purple skin. He pierced Abram's skin with a needle and thread.

"We can help each other," Abram whispered. "I can help-"

The man poked Abram with the needle.

"Be quiet. You'll get us killed," he hissed. Abram immediately caught the French accent.

"_I can help you_," he said in French. The man's eyes widened in surprise. "_I can survive out there. I know a place where we could go._"

The man snipped the thread with a pair of scissors. "You should have ran."

He left soon after. The light switched off and Abram had to wait until someone released him from his bonds.

He fell asleep like that, broken and defeated, withering in pain. And when he woke up, Abram was gone.

-

They let Nathaniel go to the restroom every once in a while. Two men twice his size came to get him. They put a bag over his head to blind him. They cuffed his hands behind his back. They opened the door to let him out.

Nathaniel memorized the path the first time he was allowed out. He knew when to turn, when to stop for clearance to be given. They watched him shower and they gave him clothes to change into. He wore a black jumpsuit with Wicked's red logo over his left pec. The two guards gave him black sneakers without laces.

He let the water soak into his hair instead of trying to wash it. Bruises covered every inch of his body. His stomach and thighs were in the worse condition. Jean's stitches were tight but they did nothing to help the pain. He had lost his tan too, his skin was a sick pale that could be because of lack of sun or poor nutrition. Everything fucking hurt, but at least he was alive.

He refused to look in the mirrors, yet he could see the dyed tips fade into his natural auburn color. Riko liked his hair because he could pull it to keep him still. Nathaniel wanted to rip it from his head. The contacts he once wore to hide his identity were long gone, someone removed them from his eyes after Tetsuji beat him to a pulp. He hadn't thought about that in a while. It seemed like so long ago.

On the walk back, Nathaniel felt a breeze as someone walked past.

"Move, Minyard."

Nathaniel was shoved forward before anything else could happen.

-

One day he was blindfolded and taken from his cell. They didn't take a left like usual. Instead they went to the right. He counted his steps. After a left turn, Nathaniel heard the familiar sound of distance chatter. There had to be lot of people. They're voices morphed into a faint whisper as he walked by. He listened to the sounds of metal scrape against metal, he recognized it as cutlery. A mess hall, maybe? Nathaniel stored the information.

He was led down another hallway. He descend a flight of stairs. Another turn, another hallway, and finally a door. The guard on his left swiped a key card. There was a click and Nathaniel was pushed inside. He was forced in a chair. They instructed him to hold his hands out after they removed the cuffs. Nathaniel did as he was told. They cuffed his right hand to the arm rest.

The bag was pulled off of his head and he was blinded for a second. It was bright. Really fucking bright. The room was a square. On one wall there was a mirror, which Nathaniel knew was double sided and he was most likely being watched. He quickly ignored it before he could catch his reflection. He sat in a cold metal chair with a white table in front of him.

Across from him was the French man, fair skin, black hair, and gray eyes. Nathaniel yanked back on the cuffs. He whipped his head around. The guards shut the door behind them and locked it. On the table between them were four stacks of folders. He didn't count them but it had to be maybe a hundred. The man's bruises on his jaw were yellow now.

"My name is Jean Moreau," he said.

Nathaniel said nothing. Jean knew his name.

"Do you know why you're here?"

Nathaniel glanced at the mirror. What was this? Some weird interrogation? He swallowed and returned his focus to Jean. "Needed a place to stay."

Something dark flashed in Jean's eyes. "Behave," he warned. "You will memorize these."

Jean dropped a file in front of Nathaniel. He warily flicked the yellow cover open out of curiosity, not because he was told to. The paper was still warm from the printer. He read the first few lines:

Test Subject: 00234

Name: Danielle Leigh Wilds

Gender: Female

He didn't read the rest. The girl's photo was printed by her name. She had dark curly hair that reached her shoulders. She wore the same Wicked uniform as Nathaniel and Jean. He shoved the file to the side and opened another one.

Test Subject: 00248

Name: Bryan Seth Gordon

Gender: Male

"You will memorize each subject," Jean repeated himself.

"Isn't that what computers are for? Seems redundant," Nathaniel said.

Jean didn't explain further. "Begin now." He stood and walked around the table to the door.

"Jean?" Nathaniel said when he was behind him.

Jean stopped and turned. Nathaniel picked up the paper with Bryan's photo. He tore it in half, right down the middle. He did so at a snails pace, letting the tension build in the room. The rip was loud and it felt way too good. He let the papers slip from his finger tips, they floated softly to the floor. Nathaniel felt like he was taunting Death himself. He swung his arm into the neatly stacked piles. They crashed onto the floor, papers scattered everywhere.

Almost immediately, the door opened and Nathaniel was clubbed in the head. Blood splattered the files and Nathaniel laughed, fucking laughed at just the thought that they would have to print them again. They hit him in the mouth to shut him up.

Nathaniel's head snapped to the side, he looked in the mirror. His lips were pinned into a sickening smile that showed his bloody teeth. His blue eyes widened into a crazed look as he laughed, spit and blood sprayed from his mouth.

He was able to stay awake for three more blows until his body gave up and he slumped back in the chair.

He gained consciousness in a hallway. His feet dragged behind him as two of Wicked's men held him by his arms. Blood dripped from his face onto the polished tiled floor. He looked through his long locks of hair. They were about to pass the room with those people.

There was a long window looking inside the room. Dozens of kids and young adults sat at round tables dressed in Wicked's uniforms. They were finishing their meals and talking to each other. At the end of the window was a door.

Nathaniel tried not to tense to avoid allerting the guards. When they passed the door, he braked and ripped himself free from their loose hold. He flung himself against the door. He jimmied the handle. It was locked. Nathaniel panicked and ran down the hall, away from the guards and directly in front of the window.

He made it two feet before he was tackled to the ground. He heard chairs squeak and muffled yells behind the glass. When he looked up, they all stared at him through the window. He made eye contact with a blonde boy.

Then he was kicked in the stomach. The guards beat him. Nathaniel laid there and took it, only managing to protect his head with his arms. He felt the stitches rip from his skin. They banged on the window and screamed at the guards to stop. Their begging only made the men kick harder.

Nathaniel blinked in a daze as his body was pulled from a pool of blood. Ceiling lights passed in a blur. His head rolled to the side, in the window, right before it disappeared, he saw a familiar face. Danielle.

He was thrown into the pitch black room. He didn't move for hours. And the next time he did was to scream as Riko played their game.

-

Later that night Nathaniel sat in his cell. He put as much distance between himself and the bed. He didn't have to wait long.

The door to his cell opened, Nathaniel shielded his eyes as the light switched on. Someone stepped inside and closed the door behind them. They placed a tray a few feet in front of Nathaniel. A bowl of stew and half a roll of bread with butter soaked on the top. There was even a glass of water in the corner. The full meal was nerve wracking. They'd never given him so much before.

Nathaniel dragged his eyes from their shoes to their face. The blonde boy whom he saw in the window smiled down at him. When Nathaniel didn't reach for the food, the boy crouched down so they were at the same level. He tilted his head, looking Nathaniel up and down.

"Interesting," he said. "They cleaned you up pretty well."

Nathaniel jerked his head away from his outstretched hand. The boy pulled back.

"Oh, no. No, no," he shook his head with a grin. "I'm not here to hurt you, Nathaniel. I'm sure Riko has his hands full."

"Fuck you," Nathaniel snapped.

"Shh," he pressed his fingers to his lips. "They're outside."

"What do you want?"

The boy pondered over the question. He said, "Where did you come from?"

"Up north," Nathaniel said even though he didn't know exactly where he was.

"Hm," he said, his thumb dragged down his lip. He stared at Nathaniel. "Makes me wonder."

"Wonder what?"

"Why you're so important to them."

"I'm not," Nathaniel said. The boy was unconvinced. "I'm nothing."

He clicked his tongue and stood. "Enjoy your meal." He pressed two fingers against his temple in a salute as he slipped back into the hallway.

He visited twice a week, every week. On the third visit, the boy told Nathaniel his name: Andrew.

-

"They're taking you off your meds," Nathaniel told Andrew as soon as he walked in. Above them the light hummed.

"Your eye," Andrew said as the door closed.

He put the tray of food on the floor, which was the only way Andrew could see him. Apparently he made an agreement with one of the cooks. He never explained what the agreement was. Nathaniel gingerly touched his swollen eye. He hissed in pain.

"What did you do this time? Let me guess, you punched Kevin in the face. Oh, I would have killed to see that," Andrew tugged at the sleeves of his uniform.

"Did you hear me? They're taking you off your meds. You and Aaron are going next."

Andrew's smile twitched, "When?"

"Another two weeks. They want the drug out of your system."

"So sorry, I have plans. Can we reschedule?"

"Andrew," Nathaniel clenched his jaw.

"Nathaniel."

There was a knock on the door, signaling that they had another two minutes.

"Has their plan changed?" Andrew asked, suddenly serious.

Nathaniel couldn't read Andrew's emotions very well. His forced cheerfulness and sunken eyes made it almost impossible to tell what was genuine or not.

"No," Nathaniel muttered under his breath.

It was easier talking with Andrew now. At first, they only stared at each other during the few minutes they had. It was after Danielle Wilds was taken to the Maze when they finally spoke to each other.

Andrew was quiet, he stared at Nathaniel. "Find me when you get there."

"We won't remember each other."

Andrew either refused to believe it, or he didn't care. He stepped forward and hooked his fingers in Nathaniel's collar. Instead of flinching away, they stared at one another.

"I'll find you," Andrew said.

Another knock on the door. Andrew left Nathaniel in the dark.

That was the last time Nathaniel saw him in person.

-

Nathaniel and Jean stood in the control room. Twenty monitors were nailed to the wall, they live streamed every inch of the Glade. With the help of Jean's clever beetle design, they could position each camera anyway they wanted.

They basically lived in front of those screens for years. He was there when Danielle cried her first night. He was there when they lowered a boy, Kaden, down the elevator shaft and pulled up half a body. He was the one who sent a Griever after _Seth_ Gordon when he ran into the Maze. Nathaniel saw everything.

Test subjects 00264 and 00265 were currently unconscious in the Box. Their memories were wiped only an hour before. Nathaniel pulled at the ends of his hair, which Jean had recently cut above his shoulders. The Minyard brothers woke up as soon as the elevator shook.

Aaron's mouth opened. Andrew froze and listened for a second before charging him like a bull. He tackled his brother. From this angle, Nathaniel couldn't see Aaron at all. Andrew fists came down in a pixelated blur. Nathaniel stepped forward. Aaron kicked his legs to try and buck him off, but Andrew was relentless.

It was an awful two minutes. After Aaron fell limp, Andrew pushed himself off. He stumbled and blindly felt around. Jean grabbed Nathaniel's wrist and squeezed painfully. Aaron wasn't moving.

In another monitor, Danielle Wilds and Matthew Boyd opened the metal doors. Andrew covered his eyes and crouched down. The Gladers, as they called themselves, stared at the twins. Aaron was unrecognizable, his face swollen and blood soaked in his blonde hair. Andrew's fists were red and trembled at his sides.

They dropped down a ladder. They said something to Andrew. He climbed it. The Gladers kept their distance.

"_Is he dead?_" Nathaniel whispered, his hand hovered over the warm screen displaying Aaron's body.

Jean tapped on his tablet. "_He's fine._"

Nathaniel almost dropped to his knees in relief. The door opened behind them and Nathaniel knew who it was without looking.

"How did this happen?" Riko yelled. Kevin trailed in behind him, his head low. Riko threw a chair at the screens. They shattered. Nathaniel protected his eyes from the glass shards.

Riko grabbed Nathaniel's hair and yanked his head back. Riko then slammed Nathaniel's skull down on a desk with all of his strength. There was a loud crack and a fire that erupted between his eyes. Nathaniel crumpled to the floor. Riko swung his arm. Jean stood still as his fist caught him in the ear. He stumbled back and applied pressure to the torn skin with the sleeve of his jumpsuit. Riko kicked Nathaniel in the ribs.

Kevin voice shook as he spoke, "I approved him. I thought it would be-"

It all happened so quickly. Riko grabbed a keyboard and turned to Kevin.

"Riko," Kevin stepped back, he held out his hands, "I didn't think he'd be the same. I didn't-"

Fed up with his excuses, Riko pulled Kevin forward by his wrist. He held his arm steady on the desk and brought the keyboard down on his hand. Kevin screamed in agony as bones crunched under Riko's rampage. Nathaniel covered his ears to block out Kevin's cries. Riko didn't stop until the keyboard broke in half. Blood splattered their clothes. Tears streaked down Kevin's face in a silent sob.

Riko grabbed Kevin's face with both hands and forced him to look at him. He dug his finger nail in Kevin's tattoo. "You will fix this."

-

It was a few months after Kevin was sent to the Maze. During that time, Andrew had been stung. Kevin planted an idea in his head that they should stay out in the Maze, Andrew tested his theory. Jean controlled the Griever because Nathaniel couldn't. Luckily for Kevin, he was promoted Keeper after Andrew woke up. Andrew saved Kevin's life by doing so.

Nathaniel and Jean hadn't been hurt since Kevin's accident. They were given three meals a day, they shared a room, they were forced to exercise. They both knew what was coming.

Two men strapped Nathaniel down to a white hospital bed. He had changed into cargo pants and a blue shirt. A woman cut his hair. Jean and a doctor met with Nathaniel after the woman left.

Jean whispered something unintelligible and slipped a yellow piece of paper in one of the pockets. A needle stuck in the side of Nathaniel's neck. He screamed as the liquid burned through his veins.

-

Nathaniel woke up screaming and pulling against the restraints. His ankles and hands were tied down by a cotton material. His waist was held firmly to the plump mattress. He frantically tried to break free.

"I think he's-"

Nathaniel whipped his head to the side. Jean stood beside him but the voice didn't match his. More faces hovered above him. They blurred together. He searched for Riko's but only saw Kevin's. Nathaniel stopped struggling then.

He clenched his fists and jaw while someone untied the fabric from his wrists. He waited until his ankles were free. When he felt his waist give just a little he lunged for Kevin. The momentum was enough to knock Kevin back and Nathaniel dragged him down to the floor.

"Neil!"

Nathaniel ignored the frantic yells around him. Kevin's eyes widened and he easily pushed Nathaniel off. He landed on his side. Someone rushed to him. He tucked his knees into his chest. The floor creaked, causing him to flinch and wrap his arms around his head.

"Where the fuck is Andrew?"

"The bathroom? I don't know."

"Go get him!"

He felt the floor strain under their weight as they ran. Nathaniel didn't look up. He was an idiot for attacking Kevin. Riko would retaliate twice as hard on Jean and even worse on himself.

"_Can you hear me?_" Jean said softly. He sounded so close. "_You're safe, Nathaniel. You're in the Glade._"

Nathaniel pulled at his hair. The Glade. He watched the Glade on screens in the control room, he kept track of the water, he controlled the doors. How was he in the Glade?

He took his time unraveling himself. Jean knelt in front of him. Nathaniel reached out and grabbed his sleeve as an anchor. Jean looked healthy. He didn't have any bruises or cuts on his face.

Nathaniel checked over himself once he knew Jean was okay. He felt for blood and found none. His scars were thick under his shirt but he didn't care about that. Red irritated bumps covered his arms like a bee had stung him repeatedly.

It all came back. The Glade, the Runners, the code, _Neil Josten_. He was in the infirmary. Aaron watched him from across the room. Kevin sat in the bed beside the staircase. He rubbed his neck, his eyebrows scrunched together deep in thought. Guilt trickled down Neil's throat and spread in his stomach. He dropped his forehead onto Jean's chest, exhausted. He survived the Changing. Now he had to survive the rest.

After a minute of Neil holding onto Jean's arm, Andrew and Nicky burst into the infirmary. Neil jumped back. Andrew's clothes were dirty, his hair stuck out in all directions, and his eyes bore into Neil's.

Jean helped Neil stand. Andrew crossed the room in a blur. He fisted Neil's shirt and pushed him back against the wall. Neil wanted to shove him off, he wanted to shield himself from his fury. Though he knew Andrew wouldn't hurt him, not on purpose.

Neil gazed into Andrew's hazel eyes. He thought he was still asleep for a moment. This couldn't be real.

They found each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wooooo!!!
> 
> Okay to clear up any confusion anyone may have: If you haven’t read the Maze Runner, Thomas sees glimpses of his past during the Changing. They never go into full detail, so I tried to do it somehow, I hope it worked! These memories are just the ones I wanted you guys to see, there will be more that come up further in the story that aren’t relevant yet.
> 
> I really fucking hope this isn’t too confusing. And if it is, please tell me!! (I mean confusing, like as in you really don’t understand, I still want y’all to be confused. You know?)
> 
> Leave a comment! I want to know what you think!!! Okay, that was a long note, thank you for reading
> 
> Once again I’m plugging my tumblr, still dunno how to put in hyperlinks so my username is: uberimmortal


	15. Get Them Out

"Three days, Josten," Andrew said.

He twisted Neil's shirt, pushing Neil harder against the wall. Neil stared, his lungs sucking in the same air Andrew exhaled. He looked older now: his bone structure was significantly more defined, his small frame had filled out from constant lifting in the Blood House and running in the Maze. Neil wanted to touch his hair, like he'd wanted to in that cell, but his hands wouldn't stop shaking even pressed against the wall.

Three days had passed since Neil was stung. Three nights the Grievers came while they did nothing. Seventy two hours of torture, of memories that were already fading.

"I had to," Neil said, voice cracking.

Andrew released his iron grip. He pressed his palms against Neil's chest before stepping away. Neil took in the others around him. He scanned through their faces quickly.

"Is Matt-?" Neil didn't finish the rest as his voice croaked and died out.

"He's with Dan and Renee," Nicky said.

Neil nodded, letting his anxiety mellow in the pit of his stomach.

"Allison?" Neil asked.

"She's okay," Nicky assured him.

Neil thread his fingers through his hair and pulled on a lock of hair. It tugged his scalp. His eyes closed at the familiarity. Neil dug his nails in until he felt the sharp pain. His chest rose and fell dramatically as he panted. Slowly, Neil slid down the wall and pressed his knees against his chest. When he closed his eyes, all he could see was black.

Tetsuji stood with his cane in one hand. The four of them knelt in front of him, Riko on one end, Kevin to his left and then Jean. Nathaniel waited on the other end.

Behind Tetsuji a projector displayed the Maze on a wall. It switched every few seconds, going through the sequence Jean and Nathaniel had spent countless hours working on. Above the North door, nestled between imaginary lines of stone walls, a red square glowed and blinked.

"We start today," Tetsuji said, his voice sliced through the tense air.

"Yes, Master," the four of them repeated in unison.

Nathaniel clenched his swollen jaw as Tetsuji left the room. The door locked shut. Nathaniel stared at the blinking red light until it was the only thing he could focus on.

"Stop this," a monotone voice said.

Nathaniel tried to jump back, but something prohibited from doing so. It took a second to remember that he wasn't there, that he was safe. That he was Neil again.

"What do you remember?" Aaron asked.

"Really?" Nicky scoffed. "He just woke up."

"I don't care. We already lost three kids."

A minute passed and it was silent again. Neil let go of his hair eventually, smoothing it until it lay flat.

_He's right,_ Jean spoke in Neil's head. _There's less than six hours until the Grievers come back._

Neil looked up. Andrew was standing in front of him with his back to the others. He acted like a barrier.

"Call a Gathering," Neil said. He pushed himself up and bottled the panic attack for later.

"Neil," Nicky said. "Are you sure?"

Neil nodded. He took a deep breathe before going down stairs to the foyer. With each step, he felt better. The throb in his ankle was minuscule and his back didn't burn. His wrist still had bruises, they were healing though and had turned green and yellow. He dragged his finger tips along his jaw and felt the scabbed cut. His clothes had been changed.

Neil stopped at the bottom of the stairs and turned. Andrew was behind him, stopping just as quickly. Jean stumbled trying to catch himself and avoid running into Andrew.

"Did they-" Neil struggled. He pulled on the shirt that stuck to his damp skin.

Andrew glanced down at the movement. "No. Jean did."

A heavy weight lifted off Neil's shoulders. He continued to the chairs. Aaron and Nicky left to gather the Keepers. Kevin kept his distance, he lingered on the stair case as Jean joined Neil and Andrew at the table. Neil was about to sit, when he noticed the picture frame had been returned to its original place.

Neil grabbed the frame, he dug his nails into the wood. It might have been his eyes playing tricks on him, but he swore Kengo Moriyama's lips curled back into a smile. A distinct, cold feeling of blades ran down his chest and made him shiver.

"Let go," Andrew ripped the frame from Neil's shaking hands.

The four of them waited for countless minutes. Matt showed up first. He smiled so widely Neil thought his face might split in two. With Matt came Dan. She didn't look as pleased as her boyfriend. Instead she looked pitiful. Neil lowered his head while the rest filed in quietly.

Chairs squeaked against the floor as they all took their seats. Nicky and Aaron sat beside Andrew. Allison stayed close to Renee. She looked better, showered and changed into clean clothes. Renee had seen better days. Her fingers were bandaged, most likely by Aaron. There was dirt and grime smeared on her forehead. It was then Neil noticed the destruction around him.

Homestead was barely standing. The wall to Neil's right was missing. Outside Gladers continued on with their chores. Their demeanor was different, like they lost the will to care. How could Neil blame them? The possibility of death loomed around all corners of the Maze, and there they waited for it. Neil looked away.

The Keepers of the Glade sat in their chairs like they were knights and queens. Their subject, Neil Josten, stood from his chair and braced himself for their questions. Things were different now. Their queen was hurt, their home destroyed, and their lives stolen. The worse part, out of everything, was that Neil had done nothing to stop it.

Neil changed after he woke from the Changing. He noticed as soon as Jean pulled him back. Memories made his mind heavy, and with each passing minute they seemed to be swallowed by the fog. He tried to cling to the ones of Andrew visiting him in his cell. Even now though, an hour after waking up, Andrew's younger self was a blur. Their conversations muted. The only ones that seemed to stay were his times with Riko.

Neil pressed the palm of his hand against his stomach, where Riko had peeled back his skin with gloved fingers. He raised his trembling hand to his hair out of instinct, knots caught on his fingers and pulled on the roots.

Multiple personalities screamed at each other in his head. Abram, a loner and a runaway. Nathaniel, owned by Wicked and a broken boy who's only purpose was to please the Moriyamas. There were more names, all holding a lost piece of him. Chris. Alex. Junior. He thought he wanted to know who he was and that the Changing would be his chance to, but now he was more confused.

Neil Josten wasn't real, he was ink on a piece of paper. He was a boy that looked and sounded like Nathaniel, he had the same attitude as him, the same distrust. He had Abram's lies and sheer will to survive. Neil was a hybrid of a broken past and forgotten lives. He was the aftermath of sharp knives, of promises that he didn't remember, of a woman who screamed at him in his head.

"Neil? Neil, are you listening?"

The name didn't register at first. He looked up from the floorboard he'd been staring at for the last minute or so. His eyes fell on Andrew, who was leaning back on the chair's back legs. His eyes drooped as he gazed back at Neil, obviously sleep deprived but still alarmingly aware of everything around him.

_I made a promise,_ Andrew told him not too long ago. What promise? Why couldn't he remember? Why could Andrew?

_I'll find you_, Andrew said before he left.

I'll find you. I'll find you.

A nightmare lurked in the thick fog, slithering around and waiting for the perfect moment to attack. The scarred flesh on his shoulder grew hot and throbbed.

"Neil, buddy, you don't have to talk yet," Matt said with his arm around Dan's shoulders.

Neil shook his head as a simple protest. Besides, he was the one who told Nicky to call a Gathering. They needed to know what was going to happen next. He just didn't know how to say it. Kevin watched from his perch on the staircase.

Before he started, Neil stole a quick glance at Allison and knew this was going to hurt her.

"Seth was right," Neil cleared his throat when it cracked and faded into a raspy whisper. He avoided Allison and held eye contact with Kevin. "He was right about the three of us."

Kevin stared down at his scarred hand. Neil wondered if Riko was watching Kevin. The idea made him sick.

"What do you mean, Neil?" Renee's voice was soothing and it made him flinch.

"It's a lot," Neil admitted, suddenly feeling more drained than he thought possible. "I'm not sure what I can say."

"Everything," Nicky said eagerly. "Everything you can."

Neil nodded slowly, buying himself extra time to think things through. He couldn't share everything. Not with Tetsuji listening to every word, or with Riko's hand on a button ready to kill him.

"A lot is already gone," Neil said. It wasn't exactly a lie. "But I remember enough to know what to do."

"You're going to have to say more than that, dude," Matt said.

"The Mor-" the name caught in his throat. Andrew's tilted his head, waiting for something. Neil recovered quickly. "The Creators put us here to solve the Maze. Except we can't, we can't solve it."

"What the fuck does that mean?" Aaron asked.

"Everything, it's just a Trial. They wanted you to believe you could solve it. They were just testing you. There's nothing to solve."

Nicky slumped back in his chair, defeated. The rest had similar reactions. Allison fists clenched her shorts in a mix of anger and frustration. Dan gazed down at her lap while Matt shook his head. Andrew didn't react.

Neil said, "They wanted to see how you all would react. If you would give up or not. You didn't, though most people would." He looked at Kevin. "I think that's why Jean and I are here, to finish the Trial and show you the way out."

"There's a way out?" Nicky asked.

"Yes," Neil swallowed. His skin crawled. He remembered more, about the Maze and it's walls, and was thankful it was so clear. "The code."

"What about it?" Dan asked.

"There's a computer station in the Maze. We just need to enter the code, then we'll be able to escape."

"We've looked everywhere Neil," Matt sighed. "I don't think-"

"No, you haven't," Neil cut him off. "Not over the Cliff. Not in the Griever Hole."

The foyer fell silent as they all processed what he was implying.

"How do you know?" Matt asked.

Neil tore a dried piece of skin from his bottom lip. "I was there when it was designed."

"No," Dan stood suddenly, knocking her chair back. She turned to Kevin and then back to Neil. "No. We're not going back."

"We have to," Neil said.

"No. I've seen what it's like. It's horrible out there. Trust me, we're safer in the Glade."

Dan knew more about the outside world compared to the glimpse Neil had seen. There were too many questions he wanted to ask her. Matt tugged her back onto his lap. She reluctantly leaned into his arms.

"You'll die here if you stay," Neil said. "The Grievers will take you, just like Seth said."

"What else was Seth right about, Neil?" Allison dragged her sunken eyes from the vase to Neil's face. "Why did he know Kevin? What did you do to us?"

Neil stumbled back like Allison had stabbed him. "I don't know," he stuttered.

Allison bolted upright from her chair. She stepped closer to Neil. "You're lying."

"Allison," Renee warned when Allison was close enough for Neil to smell the sweat on her skin.

Allison was a force to be reckoned with. Not even Andrew could have made her back down. She carried herself like she was better than the rest of them, and perhaps she was. She had survived the Maze thus far, she watched her boyfriend die, and she would continue to fight whatever variables the Creators threw at her. At that moment, while Allison threatened Neil to lie to her face, he finally understood why she was a Keeper. His respect for her strength and courage was more than he could ever give himself.

Jean cleared his throat, gaining everyone's attention, "Wicked put us here for a reason."

With Allison momentarily distracted, Neil quickly walked back to Andrew side. Andrew didn't acknowledge him. Nicky frowned.

Aaron scoffed, "Are you saying they killed three fourteen year olds for a reason too?"

Jean wasn't fazed by Aaron's scrutiny. "We need to trust Wicked. We wouldn't be here if it wasn't important."

_Trust Wicked? You're joking,_ Neil spoke to Jean, who in return looked at Neil. _You saw what they did to me. Look what they did to you._ He purposely stared at Jean's hands

Jean clenched his fists and hid them under the table. _Wicked is good,_ he said.

Kevin watched them intently. Neil caught his curious stare before it slipped back into confusion.

"Alright," Matt said, he wrapped his arms around Dan's waist. "Let's say, hypothetically, Neil isn't lying and there isa computer in the Hole. How are we going to get there? The Cliff will be crawling with Grievers and we can't exactly fight them back."

"I have a plan," Neil said dryly. It was a terrible plan, possibly worse than his first. "The Grievers are programmed to kill only one person. If we give them what they want, they should leave you alone."

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that," Nicky muttered.

"We can't throw someone's life away, Neil," Matt said. "That's not right."

"I know. That's why it will be me."

"No," Jean and Andrew said at the same time. Neil looked between the two of them.

"Fuck that," Matt agreed. "Any other ideas?"

"I say we let him," Aaron said. Nicky gawked at him in disbelief. Aaron shrugged, "If he thinks it'll work, then why should we stop him?"

No one argued or verbally agreed.

"I'll be leaving tonight," Neil said. They stared. "Go with me or stay here. My mind is made up. Jean?"

Jean nodded, again without hesitation.

Matt looked at Dan, and then said, "Let's vote."

Aaron raised his right hand as a yes, Nicky did too. Then Matt. When Dan hesitated he squeezed her waist lightly. She voted yes. Allison only agreed if Renee did, surprisingly she lifted her hand. Allison simply nodded her head. Kevin walked down the stairs and lifted his scarred hand as well.

They waited for Andrew, who took his time. He dragged his fingertips across the table. Andrew plucked the picture frame from the table and hurdled it in Kevin's direction. It narrowly missed him by a few inches, glass shattered when it hit the wall. The frame landed upright. Without a word, or a vote, Andrew walked out of Homestead. The silence that followed was maddening.

Matt cleared his throat awkwardly, "Okay. Let's tell everyone the plan, if they want-"

Neil didn't hear the rest since he left to follow Andrew. He was already past the box, walking swiftly to the Dead Heads with a lit cigarette between his teeth.

Lucy's blood on the wall had dried into dark streaks. Her body was gone, taken by the Baggers and properly disposed of. Neil didn't stare long, he jogged to catch up with Andrew. By the time he reached him, they were both deep within the forest.

Andrew stopped under a large tree. Smoke twirled above his head and dispersed in the air. Neil kept his distance. He made it obvious that he was there and gave Andrew enough time to tell him to go away. When he didn't, Neil decided to speak.

"You shouldn't have done that," Neil said. Andrew sucked in a long drag, he flicked off the ash. Neil built up the courage to continue, "You came to see me. I thought you were- I'm not sure what I thought. You brought me food though, it was the first time I've eaten in a while, I think."

Andrew crushed the lit cigarette under his boot. "What else?"

"Before you left, the last time we saw each other, you told me you'd find me. There isn't much before that." Neil knew it would be a bad idea, but he wanted Andrew to know, "I saw you beat Aaron in the Box. I saw you get stung by a Griever. I watched you go through the Changing. That was reckless you know, you could have died."

"Hypocrite."

"I had to do it."

"Had to," he repeated.

"I want to go a round," Neil said.

Andrew turned, he crossed his arms and waited. Neil took it as an invitation to step closer, now only a few feet from the other. He could smell the smoke on Andrew's clothes and see a bruise on his arm poking from underneath his armband.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Neil asked.

"Didn't recognize you," he answered, searching Neil's face for any sort of reaction.

"That's a lie," Neil said.

Andrew breathed out through his nose as a sigh. "Until you talked," he clarified.

Neil nodded slowly, "So how much?" Andrew raised an eyebrow. Neil asked again, "How much do you remember now?"

Andrew's mood darkened considerably, "It's not your turn."

"Then ask me."

"Don't do it."

“Do what?"

"Give yourself to them. Let someone else. I don't care."

"I have to."

"You keep saying that," Andrew pulled another cigarette from his pocket. He dug out a small match book, and ripped one from its binds. The flame flickered to life, warming their faces while Andrew lit the end. He shook the match before it could burn his fingertips. "You don't owe them anything."

Neil reached for the cigarette and plucked it from Andrew's mouth. The filter was wet with his spit. Neil took a slow drag, letting the smoke roll in his mouth and burn his lungs before blowing it out. Andrew's eyes focused on Neil's mouth wrapped around the rolled paper. Andrew took the cigarette back. He held it between his pointer finger and thumb. Ash fell from the burning tobacco as Andrew breathed in.

"I owe the Gladers," Neil said.

Andrew passed him the cigarette. "Drop the martyr act."

"I should tell you the same thing," Neil held the cigarette close to his face, letting the smoke burn his eyes. "Whatever promise you made me, I want you to forget it."

"No."

"I don't remember it anyway."

"That's your problem, not mine."

Neil let him take the cigarette, careful not to brush their skin together.

"Okay," Neil said.

“Okay?" Smoke spilled from Andrew's mouth when he spoke.

"You'll tell me what you remember?"

"If we live."

Neil nodded, breaking eye contact for a split second. There it was again, death. A persistent thing that refused to leave Nathaniel and Abram alone.

"You can't let it get to you," Andrew said, as if reading his thoughts. He smothered the bud with the toe of his boot.

"How did you handle it?"

Andrew was quite for a moment, then said, "I didn't."

Neil held back his curiosity. Andrew's cryptic answers were always expected. What wasn't expected was Andrew to tilt his head up a fraction of an inch. Neil's breathe caught in his throat and all he could think about was how close they were. Andrew's eyes hardened when he focused on the thin scar tracing Neil's jaw. He stepped back and crossed his arm. Disappointment squeezed his heart.

"What were we?" Neil asked.

Andrew studied him for a moment, "Nothing."

"This doesn't feel like nothing," Neil said.

Andrew clenched his jaw, the only sign that he was affected by something. Whatever it was, Neil wanted to know. He would wait though, how ever long it may take. He let Andrew walk away.

-

Matt had informed the Gladers of Neil's plan. He stood on top of the Box, surrounded by boys and girls of all ages, and tried desperately to hold their attention. More than half were on board, eager to leave the Maze even if that meant there was a chance they would die. The ones who refused crowded together at the Tree Groove.

Neil couldn't see Andrew, he assumed he was either with Renee or his brother. He found Jean in Homestead with Neil's duffel bag over his shoulder. When they saw each other, Jean slipped off the strap and handed it to Neil. It was sewed back together by Jean's skillful hands. Neil pulled it over his head and tightened the strap until it painfully squeezed his ribs.

The tables were once again covered in various weapons from the basement. Gladers picked the ones they were most comfortable with. Neil thought of Andrew's pocket knife. He patted down the pockets of his cargo pants. He felt the knife against his thigh and instantly relaxed.

Jean motioned Neil to follow him upstairs. He led him into the pantry on the third floor where Kevin waited. He had changed into his Runner gear, sneakers tied neatly and backpack secured over his chest. The three of them stood in a makeshift triangle, Neil closest to the door. Garlic hung from a string in one corner, making them scrunch their noses in distaste.

"_I talked to Jean,_" Kevin spoke in fluent French. Neil stumbled back. He glared at Kevin, more upset then shocked, and then at Jean. Kevin rushed, "_I know I should have said something. There was so much happening, it didn't seem important._"

Neil laughed a humorless laugh. He responded in French, "_Not important? What else do you think is not important? Tell me, Kevin, you were always so good with words._"

"_Nathaniel,_" Jean snapped. Neil hadn't realized his fists were clenched and he was straining to hold himself back.

Neil dug his nails into his palms, leaving behind small crescent indents. "_That is not my name,_" he said.

"_We don't have time for this._"

"_You're right, we don't,_" Neil said. He spun around to leave, Kevin stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. Neil immediately jerked away and shoved Kevin back into the shelves. A glass jar shattered on the floor. A white cloud of flour coated Kevin's shoes. "_Don't ever fucking touch me again._"

Kevin regained his footing, stabilizing himself with a hand on a nearby shelf. "_It has to be us,_" he said.

"_What are-_"

"_Be quiet and listen,_" Jean said, irritated.

Kevin gave Jean a nod as a thank you. "_You said so yourself Seth was right about us. We have to be the ones to enter the code._" Kevin ran his scarred hand over his arm. "_I have to._"

Neil tracked the movement, the puckered scar tissue and his crooked fingers. Everything was so fresh in his mind, he saw and heard Riko tell Kevin to fix this. He felt Kevin’s blood caked under his nails when he scrubbed the floor.

"_We stick together,_" Neil said eventually. Kevin let out the breathe he'd been holding. "_We only have one shot at this._"

Kevin tossed Neil his dagger where he had hid it in his back pocket. Neil caught it easily, the leather holster dug into his palm.

"_Let's make it count,_" Kevin said.

His determination and confidence was infectious. It seeped into Neil's bones, and Jean must have felt it too because he tilted his chin up for possibly the first time in his life.

-

Neil helped fill water bottles and canteens with a few others from the sink in the kitchen. He didn't bother trying to include himself in their conversations. Tightening the caps wasn't enough to keep his thoughts quiet. His body buzzed with anticipation, he tapped his fingers against his leg, he double checked each container.

They carried the water down to the foyer and dropped them on a table. On the other table were small paper bags of food. The Gladers waited in a line with their backpacks and duffel bags open. They started at the water table and circled around the food. Then they continued upstairs into the infirmary where Aaron and Nicky handed out medical supplies, just in case they lived long enough to use it.

The other Keepers were also there helping in any way they can. Matt was in charge of comforting the younger Gladers, as he was the most kind and gentle. Allison watched the food and water. If she caught someone trying to sneak more, she would slap their hand and usher them forward. She only had to do so a couple of times for the message to get across.

Dan stood off to the side, leaning against the staircase. Neil made his way over to her. She uncrossed her arms when he reached her.

"Have you seen Kevin?" she asked.

Neil looked around the cramped room, quickly searching through the familiar faces. He didn't see Kevin, or Jean, or Renee and Andrew.

_Where are you?_ Neil said in his head. It was quiet. Neil focused, imagining the words flying through the air. _Jean, where are you?_

_The Maze,_ Jean answered right away. _Kevin wanted to check if the Hole is still open._

_Is Andrew with you?_

_No, I haven't seen him._

Neil had no need to respond. Dan tilted her head, waiting for an answer.

"I think he went into the Maze with Jean," Neil shrugged.

Dan nodded, her eyes flicked to Matt briefly. "This might not work."

"We still have to try," Neil said.

Dan waited a beat, then said, "We should have helped you some how. We could have-"

"No," Neil said before she could say any more. "You couldn't have done anything."

Dan shook her head and spoke barely above a whisper. "You'll keep them safe, won't you?" He didn't want to promise something he couldn't keep, so he said nothing. Dan smiled gravely, "I know you will."

Neil glanced at her, and had an eerie feeling Dan was somewhere else inside her head. He left her there, unable to handle her strange mood any longer.

-

He waited in front of the West door for Kevin and Jean. Neil didn't like the idea of them together. He paced from wall to wall, Andrew's pocket knife gripped in his right hand. He practiced drawing the blade out, he flipped the knife in the air and caught it, swinging his arm diagonally as if someone was attacking him. He moved fluidly, muscle memory making him react before he realized he tossed from his right hand to his left.

It should have terrified him, holding a knife so close to his body. But this was Andrew's, this was Neil's. No one could use it against him. Although after a while he lost his patience.

_Jean,_ Neil said.

_We're coming back now,_ Jean responded quickly. _Are the others ready?_

Behind Neil the Gladers slowly began to trickle out of Homestead. They stayed together in a makeshift circle.

_Almost,_ Neil answered. _Did you find anything else?_

_No. There are no Grievers out right now. I suppose they're waiting for us._

_Yeah, probably._ Neil chewed his bottom lip.

_Have you found Andrew?_

Neil's gut churned, _No._

_I wouldn't worry, he seems to be able to handle himself._

_I'm not worried._

_You're not half as decent at lying as you think you are._

_Hurry up,_ Neil scolded.

They did in fact, not hurry. Neil kept track on his watch, they took another ten minutes. When they turned the corner Neil huffed and stood up. Kevin was breathing heavy, but he wasn't tired. A three foot stick with a sharpened piece of metal on one end was hooked to Kevin's backpack. The weapon looked like a medieval hammer, its only purpose to cause damage.

Jean on the other hand was dripping in sweat, his shirt stuck to his chest and back. He carried nothing.

Kevin looked Neil up and down. "Why are you just sitting there?" he asked.

Neil glared at him, "I'm waiting for you. What took so long?"

Kevin walked past Neil to the awaiting Gladers. He pulled a bottle from his pack and took two big gulps before returning it. The other two boys followed him.

"We tossed a few ropes in the Hole," Jean answered for Kevin, his accent thicker than usual. "Now we know exactly where to jump."

It was smart and something Neil hadn't thought of before. Kevin wasn't completely useless despite what Andrew would say. Neil caught himself looking around for Andrew again. Blonde hair caught his eye except he knew it wasn't Andrew.

Aaron talked with Nicky, they both spoke in hushed tones. Nicky wrapped his arms around his stomach like he was about to be sick. His complexion was pale, and Neil thought he might actually throw up on Aaron. Neil was tempted to wait and see if he would but Kevin led him to Dan and Matt.

"We're ready," Kevin told them.

Dan nudged Matt with her elbow. Matt stuck two fingers between his lips and blew. The whistle was loud and piercing. Neil flinched and covered his ears.

Dan cleared her throat, "Listen up!" There was movement as everyone tried to see her. "Tonight we show the Creators who we are. We will show them that they can't control us. That they don't own us!"

The crowd cheered. Neil was somewhat impressed. He knew Dan didn't agree and that her small speech was a front to keep everyone calm.

Dan nodded her approval and spoke to Kevin, "Lead the way, we'll follow."

Neil and Jean followed Kevin to the front of the crowd. At least forty Gladers trailed behind them, whooping and cheering. Neil's heart beat so fast it hurt. Kevin stopped at the West door and turned back to face Jean and Neil.

"Stick together," Kevin said.

Jean nodded, "Oui."

"Wait," Neil said. He looked from face to face until finally he was met with hazel and blonde. Andrew, almost completely hidden in the middle of the crowd, tilted his head and held Neil's stare. "Lets go."

Kevin bounced on the balls of his feet. Then he took off in a jog. Neil stayed on his right and Jean on his left. He heard the others following.

The three of them ran in silence, they formed an arrow with Kevin at the tip. High up the walls, beetle blades blinked and scurried after them, dodging under vines. He pictured Tetsuji watching them with Riko at his side.

Neil glanced at the back of Kevin's head when they took a right turn. Kevin picked up speed, Neil struggled to keep up. Jean started to trail behind. Kevin noticed and slowed just a little. They ran for what seemed like an hour. Neil's lungs burned with each inhale and his feet dragged across the stone.

Goosebumps broke out down Neil's arms. Loud rapid clicks echoed in the corridor. Kevin stopped abruptly. Neil tripped over his feet and Kevin caught his duffel bag before he could fall.

Neil smelt them first, a mix of burnt flesh and oil. Slowly, Kevin stepped back, his eyes darting back and forth. They retreated to the others. They all formed an oval, shoulders pressed together. Neil, Jean, and Kevin were apart of the outer edge. The youngest were told to stay in the middle.

Down the corridor, where the Maze turned and lead to the Cliff, a Griever rolled. It hit the wall and uncurled itself. Above them, three Grievers scaled down the wall. Chunks of stone chipped and fell. The Gladers inched away from the walls.

An arrow whizzed behind Neil, they missed the Griever by a long shot. More fired. The Grievers were quick and dodged each one easily. Arrows fell back down and bounced on the ground. One boy dared to retrieve them.

Soon, they were surrounded. Grievers hung above them, more appeared on both ends of the corridor. There had to be at least fifteen. Neil bent down and wrapped his fingers around the dagger's handle, sliding the blade from the holster.

Someone grabbed Neil's bicep. He peered over his shoulder. Andrew had a knife in one hand and a look in his eyes that told Neil to wait.

No one had moved for a long minute, neither the Grievers or the Gladers. Like chess, they were at a stand off, waiting for the other to move a piece on the board. Kevin reached behind him and tugged the weapon free.

"What do we do now?" someone whispered.

There were shuffles and grunts. Dan pushed her way through the mass of bodies and stood between Neil and Kevin. She pulled the corners of her mouth back in a small and tired smile.

"Get them out," she told Neil.

Seconds slowed down into minutes. Adrenaline pumped through Neil's veins and made his ears ring. Dan faced the Grievers, her chest rose and fell as she took one last deep breathe. She stepped forward into a sprint. The Grievers screeched and rolled. Neil tore his arm from Andrew's grasp. He ran after her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so sorry that it took me so long to update. Life has been hectic. Thank you for being patient with me.
> 
> I know this chapter didn’t have a lot going on, but the next one is going to be, well, a blood bath. A lot will happen and it will push us into the second book of the Maze Runner series. 
> 
> Please leave a comment and let me know what you’re feelings/opinions are! I seriously appreciate it so much. <3


	16. Push

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: character death

The soles of Neil's orange running shoes thundered in the stone corridor. Ahead of him, Dan ran as fast she could. An eruption of screams broke out behind him as the Gladers watched in horror. The Grievers, blinking their blue lights and oozing a thick goo, waited for Dan with open arms.

It was a race against time, who would reach the finish line first. Dan was quick but she wasn't as agile as Neil. One Griever drew their tail back just as Neil pushed off his right foot and leaped forward. His free hand grabbed the back of Dan's shirt. They both fell, hard. Neil landed on Dan's legs. He groaned as her shoes dug into his stomach. The tip of the Griever's tail staked in the stone an inch above Dan's head.

She kicked at Neil, trying to shove him off but Neil refused to let go. He tried to pull her back. She wouldn't budge and the Griever had already yanked its tail free. Large hands grabbed Dan's ankles. Neil dared to look beside him. Matt dragged her away easily. Neil stood to help.

"Duck!"

Neil dropped down on his stomach. He felt a breeze swish past his head as the Griever tried to side swipe him. He rolled to the right. Sharp metal legs scrapped the stone where Neil had been only seconds before. Neil threw his dagger at the monster out of instinct. The blade spun in the air and sunk into wet skin. The Griever released a series of clicks and groans before turning on Neil.

A girl jumped in front of Neil, shielding him with her body. She was pierced through the chest by the Griever's tail and thrown down the corridor. She landed on her back and slid several feet, her head smacked against a wall.

All around him, the Grievers dropped in a strange hibernation. The corridor stilled for a moment, the Gladers waited to see if Neil's plan was right, if the Grievers only wanted one.

Without being told to do so, the Gladers formed another tight circle. Neil managed to catch his breath and run back to them. Andrew grabbed Neil's shirt, then pulled him forward until he was safely surrounded. Jean and Kevin quickly looked Neil over for any injuries.

"We made a deal," Andrew said, he shoved Neil. Neil stumbled back.

"I couldn't let her," Neil said out of breathe. Andrew didn't listen.

At least for now the Grievers were dormant except for their rumbling engines. Matt was struggling to hold Dan back. Neil faced the pair with Andrew watching his every move. He placed his hands on either side of Dan's head. Neil forced her to look at him. Her eyes were wide with a crazed madness.

"Dan," Neil said quickly. She didn't respond. Matt pinned her against his chest, his arms wrapped around her torso. He heard Jean and Kevin discussing something. "Danielle!" Her full name snapped her back to reality. She stilled and focused on Neil. "You need to get it together. Understand? They already killed someone. They don't need you."

Dan shook her head, "I have to-"

"Look," Neil turned her head to look at the girl, still bleeding from her cracked head and chest. "They already got one."

The girl's death impacted Dan harder than Neil had expected. Her knees gave out and if Matt wasn't there, she would have collapsed. Her bottom lip quivered. She most likely knew her fairly well. The girl saved Neil's life and he never even learned her name.

"Danielle," Neil said once more.

She looked back to Neil, clenched her jaw and nodded. Neil let her go. Aaron and Nicky appeared from the crowd, sweat shining on their foreheads and staining their clothes. Nicky squeezed Neil's shoulder and gave him a relieved look.

"What the hell do we do now?" Aaron asked angrily. He slid his fingers through his hair, slicking it back the way Andrew sometimes did after a long day of running in the Maze.

They all stared at Neil, including Kevin. Neil's pulse spiked. He noticed that he never responded.

"We need to get through that somehow," Neil hurried. He pointed at the pile of Grievers blocking their path. Neil could barely make out the edge of the Cliff. "The three of us will put the code in."

Jean nodded his approval. Kevin stared down at Aaron, as he was more likely to argue out of everyone. Aaron kept his mouth shut and Neil was glad. Behind Nicky, Neil saw a blonde bun and then a white bob. Renee and Allison pushed their way through, Renee constantly muttering apologies.

"I'm guessing there's a new plan?" Renee asked once in earshot.

"Get to the Cliff," Dan said simply.

Renee considered it for a moment, then straightened her posture. "I'll lead," she said.

Andrew stepped forward, staring at Renee as some sort of challenge. He said, "No."

"I'm First-in-Command," Dan said. Andrew gazed back at her. "I'm leading."

Andrew clicked his tongue twice, he slipped the other knife from his arm band. "I think you've done enough."

Neil noticed Dan's throat strain as she swallowed. She didn't respond to Andrew. She knew he was right.

"Together?" Renee asked Andrew.

Andrew glanced at Matt and then Allison. "Watch your own."

"Of course," Renee agreed. She spoke directly to Allison next, "Stay behind me."

Dan grabbed Neil by the shirt and pulled him close. "This will work," she said.

Neil nodded once, "It has to."

Dan searched Neil's face for something. A lie maybe, but she found nothing. Dan trusted Neil. She trusted Nathaniel.

"Listen up!" Dan yelled, cupping her hands around her mouth. Matt had released her. He kept a hand on her shoulder. Everyone turned and listened to their leader. "Our goal is to protect these three," she stabbed her finger in Neil, Jean, and Kevin's direction. "Get them to the Cliff-"

Her instructions were cut off by the sound of Grievers coming back to life. They groaned and clicked, their legs dragging along the stone. They formed a wall, blocking off the Cliff completely. Slowly they crawled their way forward. Blue lights casted long, menacing shadows.

"Make a path for them!" Dan yelled. "Push them to the walls! Get to the Cliff!"

Kevin dragged Neil back so they were deep within the mass of bodies. The Gladers readied their weapons. A glimmer of blonde hair caught Neil's attention. Andrew stalked to the front, facing the Grievers straight on and gripping his knives. Beside him Renee twirled similar knives around her pointer fingers. The rest of the Keepers joined them. Allison held a cleaver, the same size of her arm. Aaron and Nicky both held wooden spikes with nails sticking out randomly. Dan and Matt appeared to have switchblades or daggers.

"Let them do the fighting," Kevin lowered his voice for only Jean and Neil to hear. "We have to stay together."

Neil's chest ached. He didn't protest, Kevin was right. Although he did wish Andrew would have turned around then, just so he could see his face once more. Andrew never did.

"Ready!" Matt screamed. Neil breathed in, his heart pounded. "Go!"

The Gladers charged. A loud roar erupted from the pack, each person swinging their weapon wildly. They formed a barrier around Kevin, Neil, and Jean. Grievers and Gladers met in the middle, clashing together in a frenzy of black and red. Neil dodged a razor sharp needle.

Kevin tugged his weapon free and held it across his chest. He headed directly for the Grievers blocking their path. Neil and Jean were right on his heels. Some sort of saliva sprayed from the mouth of a Griever and jumped at Kevin from above. He pointed the medieval hammer towards the sky.

As the Griever fell, it skewered its belly on the sharp metal. A dark goo dribbled down the wooden stick and onto Kevin's hands. Kevin managed to quickly side step before the creature crushed him. A small gap opened between the mass of black and spikes, allowing mostly everyone to get through. The unlucky ones were snatched by greedy metal arms.

As people pushed forward and sprinted to the Cliff, Kevin slowed down and stared at the chaos unfolding. Neil caught the back of Kevin's shirt. Kevin let Neil drag him away before another Griever attacked. Neil ran between Jean and Kevin.

Neil had never been in a war, yet he decided this was the closest he would ever get. Battles broke out all around him. Metal clashed with metal, spears cracked in half, clubs were thrown, knives slashed through the air. Screams, both human and machine, echoed in the Maze.

There were too many bodies, too much blood. Neil didn't know who made it through and who didn't. He hoped Andrew was still alive. Neil shook his head, not allowing himself to think about that nightmare.

The Gladers that were left behind were ripped apart by Grievers, limb by limb. He saw bodies cut in half. He saw a girl try to keep her intestines inside her stomach. A few Gladers laid on the ground. Some were still alive, paralyzed by fear as they waited for Death to take them. They were trampled.

While the three boys followed behind the mob, Neil repeated the code in his head: Float, catch, bleed, death, stiff, push. Float, catch, bleed, death, stiff, push. Only six words. A couple dozen more feet and everything would be over. He just had to live long enough.

They began to slow down as they were only a yard or two away from the Hole. Everyone was busy fighting for their lives. Kevin shoved his way through with Neil behind him, holding onto his shirt as not to lose him.

Jean tripped over something and fell. Neil let go of Kevin for only a moment. He hauled Jean to his feet, screaming at him to run. Jean took off. Something sliced Neil's arm which erupted in a fiery burn.

He tried to follow but he slipped in a puddle of dark, warm liquid. The idea that it was someone's blood made him nauseas. He fell on his his back, the side of his skull bounced against hard stone. His vision blurred. Screams rang in his ears.

A black blob leaped over him, slicing his thigh on the way. He choked on a scream as pain radiated down his leg and shoot into his foot. He was pulled to his feet by hands he didn't recognize. They shoved him forward.

Neil stumbled over a boy's body. His throat was cut open, almost completely severed through muscle and bone. A look of terror permanently frozen on his face. Neil knelt down and pried the broken spear from the boys's stiff fingers.

He dodged swinging swords, arrows whizzed past his head, he narrowly missed a Griever’s tail. He couldn't see Jean or Kevin.

"Jean!" Neil screamed out loud. He spun around, not knowing which way he came from.

_Neil!_ Jean answered. Neil searched frantically.

"Neil!"

Long fingers wrapped around Neil's forearm. Neil ripped away at first. When he turned he was met with gray eyes.

"Hurry!" Jean grabbed Neil again.

He led him through the crowded corridor, until they finally reached the Cliff. Kevin made eye contact with Neil and pointed at the ropes tied to vines on one wall. Multiple ropes were knotted together, creating a single one long enough to reach the Hole. Neil leaned over the ledge. The rope appeared to be cut off by the hologram.

"Ready?" Kevin asked. Neil and Jean never said yes.

Kevin jumped without hesitation. The laws of physics took place and pulled him down. He tucked in his legs and arms, as stiff as a board. His aim was perfect. Gray light swallowed him, disappearing like a magic trick.

The sounds behind Neil were horrifying. He saw glimpses of the gruesome mess. Mangled limbs and sharp needles. His brain flashed images of white walls and floors. He smelt iron and bleach. Neil felt himself slipping somewhere into his past. He had to fight it.

"Your turn," Neil said out of breathe.

Jean took two steps back then ran forward. He pushed himself off the edge, copying Kevin's form and disappearing through the Hole. Neil followed right after.

Wind nipped at his clothes and hair. An icy cold shot up Neil's spine when he fell through the Hole, as if he had dived into a pool of freezing water. Gravity caught up with him fairly quickly. The ground shocked his knees and he tumbled onto his side. Jean helped Neil to his feet.

The Griever Hole was pitch black except for Kevin's flashlight. Neil followed the yellow beam trace over the walls and floor. They stood in a long stone cylinder covered in the same sticky oil a Griever's skin was coated in. Above them, the square hole they had just come from was far and distant. The gray sky of the Glade provided little to no light.

Kevin pointed the flashlight in front of him. There was a tunnel, even longer than the cylinder. At the end of it was a glass screen. A red light dimly glowed from the monitor. There was a keyboard angled below the computer at the perfect height for someone to stand and type.

They took off running full speed. The flashlight bobbed as Kevin's arm swung. Their shoes splashed in the black goo, completely covering the bright orange sneakers Neil had grown fond of.

To the right of the screen was a massive circular stone door, split right down the middle. Neil reached the computer first. The screen was blank except for a red blinking curser. He typed out the first word with his pointer fingers. Jean held his breathe. Kevin pointed the flashlight on the keyboard. Neil punched the enter key.

FLOAT

The curser moved to the next line below the word. It worked.

"Hurry," Kevin urged.

Neil didn't waste his breath responding. He quickly started typing out the next word. When his finger was on the letter H, a loud crash echoed in the tunnel. The three of them spun around.

A Griever had fallen from the Hole. It shook out its body and sprang needles from its back. They glinted in the yellow light.

Neil counted to one while inhaling through his nose. On two he let the tension in his shoulders escape as well as his breathe. He gripped the already cracked spear in both hands and stepped in front of Jean and Kevin, his back to the computer. The Griever's engine revved, accepting the challenge.

"Finish the code," Neil told Jean and Kevin.

Neil waved the end of the spear back and forth, walking forward slowly as if the Griever would somehow change its mind and back off. A shiny metal rod broke through layers of moist skin. It unfolded into three large spinning blades, aimed directly at Neil. He didn't wait for the Griever to attack. Instead he sprinted towards it, holding the spear out like a javelin.

The metal appendage swung in the air. When Neil's head was only a foot away from being sliced in half, he swung the stick up and around as hard as he could. Wood connected with metal. The shock radiated down to his elbows and he almost dropped the stick. The bladed arm pivoted back in a wide arc until it smacked into the Griever's side. Neil watched as the creature seized angrily, retracting its spikes back into its body.

"I can hold it off!" Neil yelled, wondering if they were even listening.

"We're almost done!" Kevin yelled back. Neil cursed at how long they were taking.

The Griever had pushed out its spikes again. This time another another metal arm shot out with a snapping claw. It reached for the spear. Neil wasn't quick enough to dodge it.

The claw clamped down on wood. Neil held on even as he was dragged across the tunnel. He choked on the acid smell. Old callouses on his hands tore open. The bladed arm swirled around and slashed a deep cut across Neil's chest. He didn't feel the pain with so much adrenaline pumping in his veins.

Neil braked with his feet, swinging his arms down as hard as he could. He heard a disgusting sloshing sound and then a clunck. The arm ripped from the Griever's body. It fell to the floor. Where the joint had been, hot thick oil bubbled and spread across the dark floor.

The Griever opened its mouth, releasing a blood curdling cry and retracted its spikes once more. Neil pressed one foot down on the claw, still clamped around the spear, and tugged on the stick.

_Talk to me, Jean!_ Neil yelled inside his head.

He glanced back at the Griever, it stuttered and shook, moaning lowly. But it was quickly regaining its focus.

_Jean!_ Neil tried again.

_Something's wrong!_ Jean said.

Neil's hands were shaking. His arms were numb and blood dripped down his leg. With one that last hard tug, the spear ripped free. He spun around and charged ahead, a scream ripping through his throat.

The Griever, in its small moment of weakness, had no time to shield itself. Neil jumped on top of the massive creature. His knees sunk into its flesh. Two loud cracks vibrated his skull as he whacked two metal arms back. Neil reeled the spear back behind his head, then shoved it deep into the Griever's body.

A warm yellowish-brown sludge erupted from the wound, drenching Neil's legs and chest as he buried the spear as deep as it would go. Before he could be sliced in half, he squirmed off the Griever and fell on the ground with a heavy thud. He crawled away.

Neil watched through wide eyes as the Griever twitched uncontrollably, squirting the yellow liquid in all directions. Needles and blades swung helplessly, scraping against the stone of the tunnel. Soon it lost its strength. It collapsed in a pile of goo and metal, twitching every few seconds. The engine croaked and died.

Neil gasped for air, his fingernails clawed at his neck where the Griever's blood, or fuel, had stuck to. He choked and gaged on the taste. He leaned forward on his hands and knees, spitting out as much as he could. It took him a moment to find his bearings. He stumbled back on his heels.

Kevin grabbed Neil by the arm and pulled him up. Neil lost his balance, he caught Kevin's sleeve and held on until till he was steady. Kevin shook his head in either disapproval or amazement. Neil didn't care for either. Jean was still facing the computer, his scarred fingers hovering over the keyboard.

"What's wrong?" Neil croaked as they made their way back to him.

Jean shrugged and stepped out of the way. Neil read the five words on the screen. One more left, push. He typed the letters, the curser moving to the right after each one. When he pressed enter the word didn't stay on the screen like the others had. It simply vanished. He did it again. And again. He retyped the word so many times it didn't look like English.

"It's not letting me," Neil muttered.

Kevin towered over him, peering down at the keyboard, "What do you m-"

"I mean it's not working!" Neil yelled.

Push. Enter. Push. Enter. Each time the curser went back to the original setting.

"You're not doing it right," Kevin insisted.

"Look, Kevin!" Neil retyped it once more. "It's not fucking working!"

"Move," Kevin said.

"It won't-"

Kevin shoved Neil to the side and typed in the four letters. He slammed his pointer finger down on the enter key. Nothing. Kevin stared at the screen for a second, his brain processing the blank line.

"Why isn't it working?" Kevin pointed the flash light in Neil's face.

Neil slapped it away, "Don't fucking ask me!"

"This was your idea!"

"You're the one who-"

"_Be quiet!_" Jean yelled in French, the way he always seemed to do when he was upset. He wedged himself between the two bickering boys. His thin crooked fingers were slower at typing. Just like before, the computer didn't accept the word. "_We missed something. What did we miss?_"

Neil wrecked his brain trying to remember. He went through every word, every section in the Maze, the days and the sequence.

"Nothing!" Neil yelled. "There's nothing!"

"Well, we had to fucking miss something!" Kevin argued.

Neil's anger boiled, heat simmered off his skin. He shoved his hands against Kevin's chest, hard.

"You're the fucking Keeper!" Neil screamed in his face. "Why don't you remember?"

Kevin shoved Neil back just as hard, "I'm not the one who remembers this part!"

"This _part?_" Neil's voice dripped with resentment. How much had Kevin hid from him? How much was _everyone_ hiding from him? He stepped closer to Kevin, his head tilted back to glare up at him. "What did you just say?"

Kevin opened his mouth to speak but no words came out.

"Enough," Jean said. He shoved his arms between Neil and Kevin then pushed them away from each other. Neil's chest heaved, he wanted to choke Kevin until he spilled his secrets. "We have to work together! You both need to stop-"

Multiple Grievers dropped from the Hole, each coated in blood. When they saw their dead brother or sister, they opened their mouths and let out a horrifying squeal. They charged. Neil and Kevin stepped back, both knowing they couldn't fight four at once. The heel of Neil's shoe hit the wall behind him and he looked down.

Hidden underneath the keyboard, an inch above the ground was a small, dull, red button. Neil dropped to his knees and crawled under the computer. Neil had to squint to see clearly but it was there.

Underneath the button printed in black:

KILL THE MAZE

Neil didn't hesitate. He slammed his palm down on the button. The door to his right clicked and slid open, grinding and shuttering. A gust of cold wind knocked Jean and Kevin back.

The tunnel went perfectly still and quiet except for their heavy panting and his heat pounding against his ribs. Neil pushed himself up, using the keyboard as support. The Grievers had seemingly dropped dead, they were lifeless and unmoving. Although none of them wanted to test their luck.

A dark figure dropped from the Hole moments after. Kevin shined the light down the tunnel. It was Matt. He dragged himself up against the wall. He was cut up and bruised, his clothes basically torn to shreds. He was alive.

"Matt!" Neil yelled. Matt looked up, he squinted in the light.

Neil carefully hopped over metal spikes and oozing flesh. When it was clear he ran back to the Hole. Matt took a while to realize what was coming straight for him. When he saw Neil, he lunged forward and pulled Neil into a hug. Matt squeezed Neil's ribs and patted the back of his head. Neil wouldn't admit it out loud, but he was very glad to see him.

"Fuck," Matt muttered, his cheek pressed on top of Neil's head. "I can't believe you did it."

Another person dropped down. Neil squirmed out from Matt's grip. It was Dan, of course. She was in the same shape. A nasty cut bled across her stomach. Jean and Kevin joined them. Matt hugged them too despite their very vocal disapproval.

"What happened?" Neil asked Dan.

"We lost-" Dan's voice cracked. She shook her head. "It's horrible up there."

Neil glanced down at her clothes and wondered how much blood was actually hers. Matt finally released Jean from his death hug and shook the rope.

One by one, the Gladers fell. Some screaming, some quiet. Neil kept count. Aaron, Renee, Alison, Nicky, Rev, Julian. The rest he didn't know their names. He counted twenty. He waited a minute. No one else came.

"Where is he?" Neil asked, panic pinching at his throat.

He looked around the tired and traumatized faces. Aaron stared up at the Hole, waiting for his brother. Nicky gasped and covered his mouth. When no one answered, Neil turned to the Hole, fully prepared to climb the rope and drag Andrew down himself.

Although before he could reach, a blur of black and blonde fell and crashed on the ground, almost landing on top of Neil. Andrew rolled on his side, groaning in pain. He had a spear almost the same size of him in one hand. His hair had been stained red and his clothes were ripped. He dragged himself onto his hands and knees. There were countless scratches on his back. He spat a mess of bloody salvia on the ground. When he looked up, he stared at Neil.

He pushed himself to his feet and limped to Neil, who was frozen in shock from experiencing a thousand different emotions in the matter of seven seconds. For a long moment, he didn't believe Andrew was real. Maybe he wasn't, and Neil was only remembering something from his past.

Then Andrew grabbed the back of Neil's neck and pressed their sweaty foreheads together. And any doubts crumbled. Andrew was there _now._ Neil breathed in as the weight of Andrew's arm pulled down on his neck.

Neil felt their questioning stares, he felt their confusion and Aaron's hatred. None of that mattered. Not when Neil thought they would all be dead by now. Not when Neil thought he was just about to see Andrew’s dead body.

"I hate you," Andrew said under his breathe, then he shoved Neil back. Neil didn’t hold back his relieved smile.

"What now?" Matt asked, interrupting the moment Neil and Andrew were sharing.

"This way," Kevin said.

All twenty one Gladers followed Kevin down the tunnel which led to the open door. They carefully stepped around the Grievers. Neil wiped his arms on his shirt but it was no use, the liquid had dried to his skin.

Kevin walked through the door without looking back, and the others joined him. The mood was tense and heavy. They couldn't see that far in front of them, the pitch black swallowing them completely.

"It ends here," Kevin said after a while of walking. Neil joined him with Andrew close behind.

The tunnel ended with another wall, except there was a square opening in the middle. Neil took Kevin's flashlight and aimed it down the hole. Carefully, Neil poked his head through. The chute plummeted downward at a slanted angle. The light twitched as Neil's hand wouldn't stay still. Neil pulled back and faced Kevin.

"I think it's a slide," Neil told him.

"Well, what's down there?" Allison asked.

Kevin and Neil looked at each other. The Creators were waiting for them.

"I'll go first," Kevin said. "Wait a minute before coming down." He stuck one foot through the opening.

"You're not actually going in that are you?" Nicky asked.

Kevin shrugged, "Where else? Did you want to go back?" Nicky shook his head no. "Exactly." He pulled his other leg in and he sat on the ledge. "See you in a second."

Kevin pushed himself through and he was gone just like that. Neil hurried, shining the flashlight down the chute. Kevin was already gone.

"Me next," Jean said. He awkwardly stuck his legs in and wiggled forward until he plummeted down.

After Jean, Renee went. Then Allison, Matt, Dan, Nicky, Aaron, Julian, Rev, and the rest. Neil and Andrew were the last ones. Neil began counting down from sixty seconds in his head.

"Neil," Andrew said.

Neil looked at him. Andrew stepped closer, he favored his right leg and used the spear as a walking stick.

"Yes or no?" Andrew asked.

Neil didn’t know what he was agreeing to, but he couldn’t say no. "Yes," Neil breathed. 

Andrew grabbed the back of Neil's neck again. Where their skin touched it felt like fire, warmth radiated from Andrew's hand and trickled down Neil's spine. He pulled Neil down and their lips connected.

It was like running and falling at the same time. He felt his knees almost give out but Andrew let go of the spear and held him up by his hips. Neil's back pressed against the wall and Andrew's chest was flushed against his own. Andrew's lips were chapped and scabbed, they were unforgiving.

Their teeth clashed together in a crazed urgency. Andrew kissed him like he was fighting for his life. Neil supposed they just had. In the back of his mind, he had a sick feeling they wouldn’t get this chance again.

Andrew's nails dug into Neil's skin. Neil opened his mouth for air. Andrew took his chance to slide his tongue along Neil's bottom lip, their breath mixing together as one. Neil sighed in Andrew's mouth. He tasted blood and sweat, he didn’t care. Neil kept his hands clenched in tight fists at his sides.

This was too familiar. This was too dangerous.

He hadn't heard the woman's voice for a while, but he heard her then, yelling at him to stop. Neil didn’t listen.

Andrew pulled Neil's lip between his teeth, biting down lightly. He leaned back until Neil's lip tugged free. They were both panting heavily. Even in the dark Neil noticed Andrew's pupils were blown out. Neil leaned forward and nudged his nose against Andrew's, asking for another kiss.

"Junkie," Andrew muttered. He pressed his lips firmly against Neil's once more, then separated himself.

The cold was a harsh reminder of the danger they were actually in. Maybe in another life they wouldn't have to worry of such things. Maybe they could share a cigarette and truths without the consequences. Except what was the point of thinking that way? Fantasizing leads to hope, and in the world they lived in, hope wasn't possible. Neil reminded himself that he could never have _this._

"Go," Andrew said.

Neil sucked on his bottom lip, trying to preserve the feeling Andrew had given him. It wasn't the same. He wanted more and that was worrisome.

Without another word, or another kiss, Neil slid down the slide. He fell at a steep decline, each second he built up speed. Neil pressed his hands against the metal in front of him in a weak effort to slow himself down. A thick oily goo coated his hands. It smelled like burnt rubber and rotting flesh. Neil choked back a gag.

He fell for a long time, possibly minutes. Then the slide curved slightly and he was thrown to the left. It twisted into a large spiral, slowing him down only slightly. Neil tried to grip something but the goo made it impossible. His stomach turned with the slide, clenching and squeezing. The back of his throat tasted like vomit.

Suddenly he was flying through the air. He landed on a hard surface, the skin on the back of his elbows scrapped off. When the world stopped spinning, Neil barely had enough time to lean his head to the side and emptied his stomach. He heard Andrew exit the chute, he groaned lowly.

When Neil managed to stop dry heaving he stood up, wobbling on unsteady feet. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. The Gladers were covered head to toe in the same disgusting goo. Kevin glared at Neil and Andrew, who just managed to stand.

"What took so long?" Kevin asked.

Neil struggled to think of a lie.

"Fuck off," Andrew answered, he had his spear with him. That was a better answer than anything Neil could have thought of. Kevin scoffed.

They stood in a large empty room, similar to the foyer in Homestead. A few ceiling lights made it shockingly bright. Neil squinted underneath them. There was only one door, which had to lead to the Creators. Jean waited next to the door with his arms crossed. Without looking directly at him, Neil knew he was nervous.

Nicky squeezed Neil's shoulder, "Are you okay?"

Neil blinked at Nicky. He wasn't okay. His hands haven't stopped shaking since he woke up. His head hurt so badly he wanted to pound it against a wall. His ankles and knees throbbed. His hands burned. He was just, tired.

"I'm fine," Neil said.

Nicky smiled, though Neil suspected he knew the truth.

Not risking another conversation with Matt or Renee, Neil dragged himself to the door. He wrapped his fingers around the cold metal handle. The hinges creaked as the door swung open. He stepped inside with the others trailing in after him.

Jean and Kevin stayed close to Neil. Andrew joined his brother and Nicky. The Gladers formed a weird kind of line, they had to squeeze in order to fit. Neil had not breathed since he opened that door. He didn't risk blinking.

In front of the Gladers was a glass window, stretching from wall to wall. Behind the glass was a bigger room, filled with computers and other electronics Neil couldn't name. Wires hung from the ceiling. Desks were pushed to the side. That wasn't what made Neil fall into a paralyzing shock, it was Tetsuji Moriyama.

He wore a black suit with a red tie, in one hand he held a touchpad which lit up his sharp features. Neil noticed his cane was gone, a good sign possibly. Tetsuji liked to hurt Neil with the cane. Women and men stood around him, all dressed exactly the same. Even the women wore suits. They looked over the Gladers with cold eyes and stern faces.

"Who the fuck are they?" Matt pointed directly at Tetsuji. Panic and fear swelled in Neil's chest at Matt's forwardness.

A loud beeping pierced through the silence that followed Matt's question. Neil covered his ears and squeezed his eyes shut. When the beeps faded into a dull ringing in his ears, Neil looked up.

"Congratulations," Tetsuji said. Neil flinched. "I am pleasantly surprised that so many of you survived." He pulled the corners of his mouth back in a thin smile as he stared at Dan. Matt narrowed his brows and stepped in front of her. "I expected ten at the least."

"Who the hell are you?" Aaron asked, he stepped forward. "I want to talk to someone in charge. The president or something."

Andrew pulled him back, he whispered something in his ear. Tetsuji stared at them.

"These are dark times, Mr. Minyard," Tetsuji said coldly. Aaron frowned at hearing his last name for the first time. "You understand the Maze Trials have put a value to your life. I suggest you keep quiet."

"Keep quiet?" Aaron repeated. "Who are you to judge-"

He didn't see Tetsuji move his hand until it was too late. Tetsuji raised a gun and aimed it in Andrew and Aaron's direction. Nicky was moving before Tetsuji's finger wrapped around the trigger.

Neil turned to Andrew and Aaron just as two flashed erupted from the chamber and glass shattered. At first Neil couldn't comprehend what had happened. There was fresh blood splattered on both brothers, except it wasn't theirs. Their eyes were wide and Aaron shouted something.

Nicky dropped to his knees, facing Aaron and Andrew, his back now punctured with two small holes. He looked down at his stomach where one bullet had exited, the other must still be inside. Nicky touched the bleeding wound with shaking fingers. He slumped forward. Aaron caught him before he hit the floor and gently lowered him on his back.

Aaron pressed his hands against Nicky's stomach, trying to stop the blood flow. It was useless. He had already lost so much. Blood pooled around them, soaking into Aaron's shoes and pants. It gushed and bubbled between Aaron's fingers.

"Nicky," Aaron said, he was yelling, "you have to stay awake!"

Nicky's skin was pale, his eyes glossed over. He blinked slowly and his short breathes rattled in the back of his throat.

"Nicky!" Aaron shouted. He tapped Nicky's cheek, leaving behind a bloody handprint. Nicky focused on Aaron, but it was a distant stare. "You're going to be okay. Do you hear me? Stay awake. Someone help!"

No one moved.

"My mom," Nicky coughed. Dark crimson blood sprayed from his lips and stained his skin. "Find my mom. Please."

Tears swelled in Nicky's eyes, they spilled over and slowly rolled down his soft face, soaking into his hair. He looked up at Andrew and then back to Aaron, desperate to see his friends for the last time. He placed his hand over Aaron's and gently squeezed. He took another two uneven breaths, then his hand fell limp into Aaron's lap.

Aaron pressed two fingers under Nicky's jaw, feeling for a pulse. He waited a moment before locking his elbows and pushing down above Nicky's heart with the heels of his hands. He repeated the action continuously in a steady rhythm.

"Come on, come on," Aaron muttered.

He refused to give up even when Matt yelled at him to stop. Aaron brought all of his weight down on Nicky's chest. Ribs cracked. Nicky's head rolled to the side and blood tricked from the corner of his cold, pale lips.

"He's gone," Neil said, trying to keep his voice steady.

"I can save him. I just need-"

"He's dead," Neil said.

Aaron shook his head in disbelief, though the proof lay in front of him. Nicky's eyes bore into Neil's.

Neil promised Nicky at that moment he would find his mother and tell her how wrong she was for letting Wicked take him. He would tell her that she didn't deserve Nicky, that he was a better person than Neil could ever hope to be. He would tell her that Nicky wasted his last breathe for her. Neil would tell her how badly Nicky wanted a family, and how instead he found one in the Glade.

Neil tore his eyes away from Nicky and looked to Andrew.

Andrew wasn't the calm mellowing storm Neil knew him to usually be at that moment. He was pure rage. A dam had broke inside of him, revealing a level of such intense, raw emotion that Neil couldn't look him in the eye. Andrew turned to the Creators, chest heaving and nostrils flared. His knuckles were white as he gripped the spear so hard he could split it. He took one step forward, twisted his torso, and let the spear fly from his hand.

The glass had little to no impact on slowing the spear down. Andrew had thrown it perfectly, it left behind a hole the size of the arrow in the glass, thin cracks spiraled out yet never shattered. It plunged into a man's chest, who stood beside Tetsuji. Andrew missed.

The man stumbled back from the momentum and fell. All of the other men and women rushed to help him. Tetsuji stayed where he was, a pleased look on his face, as if he knew Andrew would react this way.

Andrew ran forward, a knife in each hand. He would have made it to Tetsuji, would have killed him, if it wasn't for Renee. Renee threw herself on Andrew, knocking them both to the floor. Andrew immediately tried to lash out. Renee knew Andrew's moves from months of sparring in the Deadheads. She flipped Andrew over on his stomach and pressed her knee in the middle of his back. With her other leg she straddled him and held his wrists above his head.

It was like something switched in Andrew. He instantly stopped fighting back and shut his eyes. The emotion he had expelled seconds before, gone.

"It's Renee," Renee told him. Although Neil didn't understand why she had to remind him. "It's me. It's Renee."

Matt had tried to pull Aaron back from Nicky's lifeless body. Aaron refused and stayed with Nicky. He kept shaking him, urging him to wake up. Aaron wasn't crying like a few of the other Gladers were.

"I hope you all understand," Tetsuji said. Neil wanted to ignore him. But Nathaniel couldn't. He looked and he listened. "Everything happens for a reason."

Anger simmered deep in his chest, squeezing his lungs and choking him. He killed Nicky, he killed Seth, he killed Lucy. This was all Tetsuji's doing. Neil walked forward, tugging free from Jean’s grip, until he stood directly in front of Tetsuji. Partially to direct his attention away from the others, partially to look his Master in the eye without having to kneel.

"We won," Neil said through clenched teeth.

Out of the corner of his peripheral he saw Renee pull Andrew to his feet. His face was slack and his shoulders were limp. He numbly stared down at Nicky.

"So-" Tetsuji started but was quickly interrupted.

A door behind the Creators burst open. Less than a dozen men and women rushed inside. They wore disheveled dark pants and random coats which were completely soaked. Water dripped onto the polished floor. The bottom half of their faces were covered by black bandanas, a few wore thick goggles. They raised their rifles, each appeared to be more rust than machine.

Tetsuji had enough time to turn around before the intruders held their fingers on the triggers. Neil ducked down and covered his head with his arms. Glass shattered above him, small shards fell in his hair and cut his arms.

Neil heard and felt bodies fall in the room beside him. After a minute the bullets finally stopped. Neil straightened himself out of his crouch.

Tetsuji laid on his side, back and chest torn apart by bullets. Neil ignored the glass slicing open his palms as he gripped the edge of the window and jumped over it. The strange men and women shouted at him. He ignored them as well. He had to make sure he wasn't hallucinating.

He kneeled beside the body. Tetsuji's eyes were still open, his lips were slightly parted. Neil rolled him on his back. He struggled with the dead weight. There was movement and people ran past him. He didn't pay attention to what was happening.

With trembling hands, he pressed two fingers against Tetsuji's wrist. The skin was cold and soft. He didn't feel a pulse. Unbelieving, Neil leaned forward and pressed his ear over Tetsuji's heart. Hot blood scorched his cheek, and the smell of iron filled his nostrils. Neil heard his own heartbeat. He closed his eyes to focus.

Silence. He was dead.

Neil scrambled to his feet. He sucked in sharp and painful breathes. His lungs burned, his head pounded. What was happening? This couldn't be happening. No, this isn't-

"We’ve got to go," a woman behind him with googles and a black bandana covering her face, grabbed Neil by the shoulder. Her strange voice sliced through Neil's loud thoughts. She had pulled her dirty blonde hair back in a high pony, the hair that was cut too short lay against the back of her neck.

Neil looked around. The people, their rescuers, were helping the Gladers over the window ledge. They all wore the same black cloths, shielding their faces. Allison held onto a man's arm as she hopped over glass shards.

Two of their rescuers were trying to drag Aaron from Nicky's body. He yelled and fought them.

"I can't leave him!" Aaron yelled, his voice broken. "I can't leave him here!"

Neil had never seen Aaron care so much for a person and it hurt to watch. Andrew stalked over to his brother. He grabbed Aaron by the back of his shirt and pulled him away from Nicky. Aaron collapsed in his arms. Andrew said nothing. He had a heavy darkness that hung over him like a cloud. Together, they climbed over the window.

"Let's go," the woman shoved Neil forward where the other Gladers were being lead out the door.

Neil stopped, "Who are you?"

"There's no time to explain," she said. She grabbed Neil by the wrist, her long nails dug into his skin painfully. "Follow me and run like you're life depends on it."

Neil told himself he wouldn't look back, but he did. They left Nicky there, with the Creators and the Grievers. Neil managed to see his body once more.

"Thank you," Neil whispered.

He thanked Nicky for finding Andrew on the roof, for understanding and caring for him. He thanked him for saving Andrew and Aaron's lives. He thanked him for trusting Neil, even though he didn't deserve it. He thanked him for his friendship.

"Go!" A man yelled.

They all ran down a long hallway. The lights flickered and there were more bodies on the floor, killed by gunfire. They wore Wicked's uniforms. Some still held onto their clipboards.

They ran up a flight of stairs, down another hallway. It smelled like bleach and metal. They passed by rooms full of computers and monitors. Neil didn't allow himself to look, instead he focused on putting one foot in front of the other. Some of the men and women yelled encouragements behind and in front of the Gladers. Neil wanted to find Andrew and the other Keepers. He didn't. Somehow he knew they would all be there.

After the tenth flight of stairs, they ran through two large double glass doors. A heavy downpour of rain hit Neil like a brick. Raindrops stung where they hit his skin, washing away the grime and blood. Neil breathed in the fresh air and looked up at the black sky. He wanted to stay there and bask in the feeling of being alive. His sneakers sunk into wet sand.

Behind Neil was the Maze. Stone stretched on for miles. The dark sky made it almost impossible to see the end. Neil swore he heard faint clicks of Grievers.

They didn't stop running until they reached a massive black bus. The sides were scratched and almost every window was broken. Neil made out only a few letters printed near the door, ED R LEN, the rest was too faded to read.

"Inside!" The same woman behind Neil yelled.

She spoke with an edge to her words that Neil couldn't quite place. His wrist burned where she had grabbed him. Neil followed her instructions.

The Gladers shoved their way into the bus, taking their seats at the back and then the middle. Neil was one of the last to make it inside. He stood in the aisle. They all looked at him. Neil looked back at their streaked faces and tired eyes.

They sat in pairs: Kevin and Jean, Renee and Allison, Aaron and Andrew, Dan and Matt, and the rest. Neil's shoes squished when he stepped forward. The door slammed shut, shaking the bus and making Neil turn around.

The rescuers took the remaining seats. One of them sat in the drivers seat and turned a key in the ignition. The bus vibrated as the engine purred to life.

The blonde woman dropped her rifle on one of the cushions beside her comrades. She reached up to her mask, long broken nails reflecting in the little light the bus provided. Neil was frozen in place, something clenched his heart and whispered at him to stay still. He recognized the fear, but he didn't understand why it was so intense.

She pulled off the googles and tossed them on top of her rifle. The irises of her eyes were thin and pale, a stark contrast compared to her clunky clothing. Then she dragged down the bandana which protected half of her face, letting it hang from her neck. Her lips were painted with a bright red lipstick. They pulled back in an all teeth smile, sharp and cunning.

Alarms went off in Neil's head. Every atom in his being screamed at him to run.

"You're lucky we found you," she grinned.

Neil stepped back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well... that’s technically the end of the first book in the Maze Runner series. (Don’t worry, we’re not even CLOSE to being done)
> 
> I would first like to say thank you to everyone who has been reading so far! Thank you for your kudos and comments, I seriously appreciate it so much. 
> 
> Please let me know what you thought! If you’re pissed off at me or sad, or anything between! Thank you <3
> 
> Follow me on Tumblr if you’d like to as well: uberimmortal (Sorry still no hyperlinks...)


	17. Trapped

There were three ways off the bus. The first, and most practical, was the emergency exit in the back. Neil noticed it as soon as he stepped inside. The red handle was like a beacon in the dark, practically begging him to pull it. Surprisingly the glass window was still intact. A few bullet holes peppered the door, the metal sticking inward. Whoever was aiming that gun must have been on the outside.

From where he stood the door was only ten rows away. The bus had only just started gaining speed. Neil knew jumping now would hurt. Maybe he'd dislocate a shoulder, or sprain an ankle. Even so, he could survive the fall. Except he had no food or water, and he didn't know where he is. He guessed he could make it a week or two if he were lucky.

The second exit was above him, a hatch on the ceiling that he would have to jump to reach. If he stood on one of the seats, Neil still wouldn't be able to successfully push it open and have the strength to pull himself up. Kevin, Matt, or Jean had the advantage of height. They would be able to escape, then pull the rest on the roof.

Rain splattered against the tin ceiling. Droplets of water hit Neil's cheeks from the broken windows. The rain probably made the roof slippery. There was a possibility they would fall off as soon as they stood. Either from the wind or rain, which would inherently cause more damage.

He could leave the way he came, through the door in front of the bus. The only thing that was stopping him were their guns. They would shoot him before he had the chance to pull the lever. He guessed they would shoot him before he could exit from the back too. His options were limited. And with the loud ringing in his ears, he wasn't thinking clearly.

That was another issue, Neil had a concussion. He swayed with each jerk and bounce the bus made. He saw flashing lights that he couldn't tell if they were real or not. Nausea and dizziness made most of his energy focus on standing. He clenched his fists at his sides.

With his adrenaline gone he could feel everything. And _everything_ hurt. The new cuts on his body throbbed. He couldn't tell if he was wet from the rain or the blood dripping from his arm and leg. He took a second to quickly gauge the extent of his injuries: a deep cut on his left bicep and right thigh, his palms were sliced open and he felt the painful prick of broken glass imbedded in the wounds, and the back of his elbows had an angry burn from sliding on the ground.

All of this went through his head in less than twenty seconds. He knew what he had to do if necessary. His knife was still in his front pocket. He was close enough to the woman to reach out and grab her by the neck. He would hold her hostage, blade digging under her jaw until the others dropped their guns. The look on her face told Neil that she understood his thought process. Perhaps his plan was written too clearly on his face.

The woman's hand reached up and grabbed Neil by the chin. She was quick, like a snake that hadn't eaten in months. Her nails dug into his skin as she turned his head to the side. Neil held his breathe. Her wide pupils raked across his face, to his hair, and then back to his startling blue eyes, ones that he hadn't seen in a mirror but only heard about.

Nicky had been the first person to say something one day in line for lunch. Neil had brushed off the compliment at the time. Now it was the only thing he could think about. It was then that he also recalled Kengo, when Wicked found him.

He remembered forcing dry contacts on his eyeballs everyday and the excruciating pain when sand somehow was trapped under them. He remembered being slapped so hard he saw stars when he had accidentally lost a contact. He remembered sharp French, scolding Abram about how his eyes would get him caught, how they would kill him.

And now this woman was staring at his eyes, bare for the world to see. Neil was as vulnerable as he had been with Andrew in the infirmary. But the feeling he had then was different. He was safe with Andrew, he wasn't with her.

"Handsome," she said under her breathe.

Her thumb smoothed the scar Andrew had given him. As she did so she smiled. Her bright teeth shined in the dark.

Everyone on the bus was watching the strange encounter unfold. The stench was horrid now. The Gladers were all coated in some sort of bodily fluid. The heat their bodies gave off was insufferable. Broken windows and rain wasn't enough to keep the smell away.

Neil's pulse was rapid, his heart pumping overtime to keep up with his fear. He slowly felt the pocketknife with his middle finger. She caught the movement and looked down where the fabric bulged. Then, like she just remembered they had an audience, she smiled at the Gladers behind Neil.

She dropped her arm and gestured at the empty seat beside her. Neil didn't take the invitation. Instead he sat with two Gladers, both were older girls and both were physically in the same shape as Neil. Their clothes were torn and sopping wet, which helped clean out their wounds only a little. The girl closest to the window gripped onto the other's knee, her knuckles white. They both looked at Neil with some sort of question. Neil didn't know what he was supposed to answer.

The woman tilted her head at Neil, thinking. She taped her nails against the headrest in front of Neil. Each soft thud was like a gun shot.

"Where are we going?" Someone asked.

Neil didn't see who it was, not wanting to risk turning his back on the woman. She swayed slightly as the bus tuned to the right.

"Somewhere safe," she said with a cold smile. "Wicked won't find you there." That answer released a low murmur of indecisive chatter. "Quiet down," she continued. "There's no need to worry. You're all safe now. When we arrive you'll be able to shower and have a full meal. We have medicine for your injuries."

The two girls next to Neil relaxed. They sunk into the leather and let out a long sigh. The woman nodded to herself when the Gladers didn't question her. They were all too exhausted to ask. Neil though, he knew there was something wrong. His gut was telling him to run.

_Jean_, Neil whispered in his head. _Are you listening?_

_I am_, Jean responded.

_We need to leave_, Neil told him. _All of us._

_What? Why?_

_Something's off about her._

Jean was quiet for a moment, _I think we can trust her. She seems to be telling the truth._

With a curt smile, the strange woman returned to the front of the bus. Her pony tail disappeared when she sat down. Neil leaned in the aisle, checking that she was still seated. The cost clear, Neil forced himself to stand in a low crouch and quickly walked to the back of the bus. He walked past Matt and Dan, who both gave him a worried look. Neil didn't acknowledge their concern.

Jean and Kevin were right behind them. Their long legs took up most of the room so Neil sat in the seat across them which was occupied by Allison and Renee. Renee scooted over as much as she could. Still, their legs were pressed against the other. Allison made an annoyed grunt.

Neil poked his head over the seat, his bottom lifting off the leather. He counted the guns that he could see. There were at least fifteen. He sat back down and almost cried out. Pain shot out from his thigh. With a knuckle between his teeth, he bit down and whimpered softly. He gingerly touched his right leg with his fingertips. When he pulled them back they were stained with blood.

"Neil," Renee whispered.

Her hand hovered just above the deep gash on his thigh. Neil couldn't look any longer or he was certain he'd throw up.

Allison leaned forward and faced Neil. "What the fuck?" she said. "If he bleeds out-"

Renee didn't let her finish. She stood up and shimmied out of her backpack. Kevin was now sitting with his legs in the aisle. He scrunched his brows together, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. Renee unzipped the largest pocket and pulled out a clean rag and roll of gauze.

"That looks bad," Kevin observed.

Sweat dripped from Neil's brow and into his eyes. He swallowed and glanced at the wound once more. It was bad. The skin was red and angry. Whatever had cut him sliced deeper than he recalled. At first he thought he saw bone but he was sure he was imagining things. Or at least that was what he told himself.

Kevin took off his backpack too, he pulled out his water bottle and handed it to Neil. He took small sips, subconsciously rationing the water. Kevin stuffed the bottle back in his bag. Dan and Matt were watching over their seat. Neil noticed others were doing the same. The twins weren't, they were further back. Jean made eye contact with Neil over Kevin's wide shoulders.

"Here," Renee said. She offered Neil the rag.

Neil shook his head no. When Renee tilted her head, he showed her his palms. The bits of glass sparkled in the low light. Renee frowned before standing once more.

"Does anyone have tweezers?" Renee called out.

There was a series of soft no's. Then a young man raised his hand with a pair. The Gladers passed it forward until Renee had them. Allison pulled a flashlight from Renee's backpack. She slapped the bottom and shook the batteries. It flickered to life.

"Do you trust me?" Renee asked Neil.

She stuck the end of the flashlight between her teeth and clamped down on it. Neil didn't, but Andrew did.

"Yes," Neil answered.

Renee twisted her torso as much as she could. Thankfully they were both fairly small and were able to adjust well enough. Allison sighed at the discomfort of being pressed up against wet, cold metal but didn't verbally express her concerns.

Neil rested the back of his right hand into Renee's palm. She bowed her head, the beam of light warming Neil's cold fingers. The bus made her hand jerk wildly. Though it seemed Renee was able to guess when the wheels would jump, because each time a second before it happened, she pulled the tweezers away.

About ten minutes in, the Gladers lost interest and returned to their seats. Allison had fallen asleep quickly, as well as Kevin. It stung when Renee had to dig under Neil's skin to fish out a small piece of glass. She patted the blood with the rag every so often and pulled the flashlight from her mouth to massage her jaw.

Neil watched the concentration on her face; the way she squinted when the flashlight dimmed, or the irritated shake of her head when the bus abruptly turned, forcing her to take a break. Her fingers were still bandaged. Aaron's skilled handiwork had held up even in a battle against monsters.  


What happened next Neil wasn’t prepared for.

_Test Subject: 00257_

_Name: Natalie Renee Walker_

"Neil," Renee spoke with genuine concern, "Are you okay?"

Neil looked up, blinking out of a sudden memory of yellow files and white rooms. He squinted at her face in the dark. He thought he could trigger something. He did.

He saw Renee's body strapped to a stretcher as she was wheeled down a hallway. Nathaniel and Jean stuck close to the wall and watched as Wicked's doctors ran beside her. Nathaniel caught a shimmer of a delicate blade still in her hand. Her arms were soaked in blood, all the way up to her elbows, as if she dipped them in a bucket full of the stuff. Her clothes were old and faded, ripped in some areas. She had a dull look in her eyes as she stared numbly at the ceiling.

Nathaniel asked Jean what had happened. Jean explained they found her standing over two dead men. They were each stabbed well over fifteen times, in the chest, stomach, and face. He went on to say she had attacked anyone who tried to touch her. Nathaniel turned away before he let his thoughts wander. She would be taught manners soon enough.

"Neil?" Renee interrupted the memory.

Neil had to take a second just to breathe. He looked to his left, at Jean and Kevin as they slept soundly. The sight of them together, hurt but not by Riko, eased the panic in Neil's chest. When he could face Renee again, he understood the hardness behind her eyes. He understood why Andrew asked them to spar together. She was like Abram, a fighter, a survivor.

"I have a concussion," Neil said as an explanation to his odd behavior.

Renee didn't question him, which he was thankful for, and returned the flashlight to her mouth.

The painful process of poking and probing took longer than necessary. An hour, perhaps. Simply because of the many breaks Renee had to take. She asked Neil to flex and bend his fingers to feel for any glass. The pain was duller now. There were no sharp stabs so Neil deemed Renee's efforts satisfactory. She wrapped the gauze around each hand, ripping the ends with her teeth and tucking it on the back of his hand.

"Thank you," Neil told her.

Renee smiled sleepily. Tossing the bloody rag out the window without much thought to it. She stretched her arms above her head. Her spine popped in multiple places and she sighed pleasantly.

"You're welcome," Renee whispered.

With most of the Gladers asleep, the bus was very quiet. The rain had stopped half an hour ago so Neil didn't have the clatter to fill the silence. With a concussion and the guns in front of him, he chose not to sleep. By the looks of it, neither did Renee.

"Do you still have your knives?" Neil asked her.

"Only one," Renee answered. She reached down and stuck her fingers in her left boot. Her shoes reached just below her knee. She pulled out a thin blade, small enough to hide. "I dropped the others in the Maze."

Neil nodded, "Keep it hidden."

"Do you think I'll need it?" She tucked her knife behind the laces.

"I think we need to be careful."

Renee hummed her agreement. Then said, "She touched you."

Neil swallowed the lump in his throat. "She did," he said.

"I don't trust her."

He somewhat relaxed knowing he wasn't the only one with doubts. "Neither do I."

"But we need bandages and food. They're too tired to try to run. We have to do what she says for now."

"Would they?" Neil looked at her. She turned her head to look back. "Would they run?"

"If you told them to," she answered confidently.

"I'm not Dan."

"No, you're not. I'm sure you noticed Dan hasn't been herself lately. I care for her, I do, but she's not reliable anymore. The Gladers need someone to lead them."

Neil shook his head, facing the seat in front of him. "I'm not a leader, or a Keeper. Ask Kevin."

Renee huffed a soft laugh, "I don't think we could handle another Kevin." She sighed, "All I'm saying, Neil, is you're the one who got us this far. You solved the Maze, you risked your life for Dan, for us."

"I put you all here," Neil said.

She shrugged, "Sure, but you still got us out."

Fed up with the conversation, Neil crossed his arms as carefully as he could over his chest, turned his head to the side and closed his eyes. Renee got the message and stayed quiet. She shuffled a bit as she made herself comfortable pressed up against Allison.

Neil counted the seconds in an effort to stay awake. He practiced his French, mumbling the numbers or words out loud when he forgot them.

No matter how hard he tried, his mind would drift back to Andrew. To their hectic kiss covered in blood, both human and Griever. To the anger Andrew had shown after Nicky died. It unnerved Neil, seeing what Andrew was capable of with his bare hands. He shouldn't be surprised, not after the way Andrew so easily beat Kevin with no remorse, or the way he had cut Neil.

Neil opened his eyes. No, no that was an accident. Still, Neil found himself rubbing his jaw with his knuckle. He shivered in his cold, wet clothes. Just then the lights flickered on, waking anyone who was asleep in a fit of grumbles. Neil squinted.

"Wake up!" The lipstick woman yelled.

She clapped her hands and walked to the back of the bus then to the front. When she passed Neil, she dragged her nails over his scalp, tugging on his knotted hair. Renee tensed beside him. Kevin watched her and didn't relax until she was at least five feet away.

The men and women stood from their seats and shuffled off the bus, rocking it from side to side. The Gladers followed in a line. Neil trailed behind Kevin and Jean. They were in a dark parking lot that surrounded a plain one story building. Several windows lined the sides, each with reinforced steel bars. The lights were on.

With the rain gone, a thick heat wrapped around Neil like an uncomfortable hug. The rain water still on his skin quickly turned into sweat. His clothes stuck to his body. Neil inhaled a deep breath. The fresh air helped clear his head.

A few feet behind him Andrew and Aaron stepped off the bus side by side. Andrew had one hand wrapped tightly around Aaron's bicep. Aaron hung his head low, his feet dragging across the asphalt. Every so often he leaned on Andrew and Andrew would let him, who in return stayed alert. Neil only saw their mouths since the light casted a shadow over their eyes. Somehow he knew Andrew was remembering how many guns there were, where they were, and how quickly he could disarm them.

They were led to the entrance, a doubled steel door. The back of Neil's neck stood on end as he felt several guns pointed at him. They were surrounded. A man with dark buzzed hair pulled a plastic card from his back pocket and swiped it through a black box. The small red light switched to green. Neil heard a click as the lock slid back. They opened the door and the Gladers followed them inside.

Neil expected Wicked, he expected black floors and dark halls. He expected Tetsuji standing with his cane, even though he was dead and could never hurt him again. He expected Riko to surprise them with his knives and his laugher. None of that happened.

The building was bright and white. They all filed quickly inside. Neil felt a cool breeze. He looked up and noticed it was from a vent on the ceiling. The room they stood in was empty and small. Another door waited at the opposite end. It needed one of those cards to open.

After the door was unlocked, they lined up to fit in a hallway. At the end, the walls opened up to a mess hall, full of round tables and a kitchen in the back. Neil smelt the familiar scent of food. His stomach growled but he made no motion to follow it. In this hallway there were six doors, three on the left and three on the right.

At the same time, they all opened and a man or a woman stepped out of the room. They wore clean clothes, pressed black slacks held up by belts and white shirts neatly tucked in. Surgical gloves protected their hands. They smiled warmly at the Gladers. Neil leaned forward to peak inside the nearest room. He saw a hospital bed and a sink. There were other medical equipment and tools Neil couldn't name.

"One at a time," a man with a rifle bellowed out. Neil flinched and grabbed onto Jean's sleeve.

Kevin puffed his chest and volunteered himself to be first. He shook hands with an older woman. The door closed behind him. Then another five Gladers were taken inside the others.

_Stay with me_, Neil said to Jean. Jean nodded.

Ten minutes passed and Kevin returned. A girl introduced herself to the doctor. Neil looked over Kevin quickly. His left leg had a large bandaid but other than that he seemed fine. He held an ice pack against his bruised eyes.

"What happened?" Neil asked him. Others pretended not to listen.

"Bastard broke my nose," Kevin huffed.

Kevin glared at Andrew who wasn't paying attention. Andrew kept Aaron separated from everyone else. He looked miserable, they both did.

On the second round, Matt and Dan pecked each other on the lips before joining separate doctors. Allison and Renee were also each introduced to a doctor. Andrew stood from his perch against the wall and pulled Aaron to a doctor before anyone else could beat him there. Andrew hurried to the other doctor, a tall man with an intimidating stare. Andrew clenched his fists and ignored his hand shake.

Another ten minutes passed and they emerged from the rooms. Mat and Dan were bandaged. Renee's hands were changed. She waited for Allison, who walked out smiling and laughing with her doctor. Aaron stepped out. His posture was better than before, and he thanked the woman who took care of him. Gladers took the five empty rooms.

Neil stared at the door Andrew was behind. It had been fifteen minutes now.

"He's fine," Kevin tried to reassure Neil. Neil told him to shut up.

On the eighteenth minute, the door opened. Neil immediately noticed the black bands were gone. In its place were white gauze, heavily taped up to his elbows. He shoved through the crowd and made his way back to his brother. Aaron frowned at Andrew's arms. Andrew simply shook his head.

"You're next," a man said.

Neil spun around. It was the man with the buzzed hair. He grabbed Neil by the shoulder and pushed him in the direction of Andrew's doctor. Neil refused to follow the order and stuck with Jean.

"We're going together," Neil said, he glared at the man.

He met his glare with an equal amount of heat. "One at a time," the man repeated the original instructions.

_Go_, Jean said. _I'll be here when you get out._

Neil looked up at him. Jean nudged Neil. With a harsh shoulder into the man’s side, Neil walked straight past the doctor and into the room.

It smelled like bleach with a hint of lemon. The bed was lined with white paper and had a single pillow. He watched the doctor wash his hands in the small sink. Paper towels hung from a cabinet beside him. He tore a section off and pat them dry, then snapped on a pair of gloves. Next to the sink were three glass jars. One full of cotton balls, another with qtips, and the third with flat wooden sticks.

"How are you feeling?" The doctor asked. His voice was scratchy and rough. He didn't have a name tag.

Neil made no indication he would sit on the bed. The doctor smiled like he expected that much. Sweat collected at Neil's armpits.

"Do you mind if I take a look at that?" He pointed at Neil's chest. At Neil's unwillingness he sighed. "I'm here to help you. It looks like you'll need stitches on your leg. Did you hit your head? I noticed some swelling on the back."

Neil swallowed nervously at being observed so easily. "Yes," he said.

"Let's start with your hands," he said. "Can you unwrap those for me?"

Neil nodded. He dug out the tucked ends on his right hand and carefully unraveled them. The dried blood stuck to the bandages, pulling painfully. The doctor held a small trash can for Neil to toss them in. He held out his hands for the man to see.

"Not too bad," the doctor said. "I'm going to clean your hands and apply a creme, okay?"

"Okay," Neil said.

They stood during the whole process. Neil's legs ached and he regretted not sitting down. The creme was numbing which helped with the process of wrapping them again. When the doctor was finished, he pointed at Neil's thigh.

"You'll need to sit for this part," the doctor told him.

Neil agreed. He pulled down his pants until it pooled at his ankles. Thankfully his boxers were short enough to expose the cut on his thigh. He carefully sat on the bed, the paper crinkled obnoxiously. The doctor pulled out a slab from the bed and instructed Neil to place his feet on it. He did so.

"I have something to numb your-"

"Just get it over with," Neil interrupted.

Neil watched the whole process. He didn't dare look away with a man holding a needle so close to his body. It hurt when he pulled too hard but he was quicker than Andrew. He wiped the stitches with a bacterial wipe and applied some sort of creme. Then he wrapped the wound.

"Okay," the doctor said, pulling on a clean pair of gloves. "Last step." He motioned with his finger for Neil to lift his shirt.

"No," Neil said.

"I'm here to help," he said. Neil didn't budge. "The sooner we do this, the quicker you can shower and eat."

The mere mention of food made Neil lightheaded with hunger. At a snails pace, he pushed his shirt up just enough so the cut on his chest was visible. It was difficult with his backpack on. The doctor released a small gasp when he saw the extent of his scars. He recovered quickly and got to work. He never leaned too close, keeping himself at a respectable distance.

When he was finished, Neil pushed himself off the bed and pulled down his shirt. He buckled his pants. Before he could open the door, the doctor spoke.

"Wait," he said. Neil froze with his fingers around the handle. The doctor rummaged through the cabinet, collecting extra gauze and bandages. "Change them after you shower."

Neil nodded, tugging his backpack off and unzipping the largest compartment. It was empty. The doctor stuffed the supplies inside. Neil returned the backpack over his shoulders. He opened the door.

"Be careful," the doctor whispered as Neil stepped in the hallway.

The Gladers were waiting for him. All of them had some sort of injury that was attended to.

"This way," a woman with dark hair walked through the mess hall.

Neil was practically pushed forward. He looked around. He saw the twins, Kevin, Dan, Matt, Allison, Renee, everyone except for two people. The woman with red lips had disappeared, and with her so had Jean.

They walked past the tables and the kitchen. Several people were filling cups with water and placing them on the tables. He spotted another door on the opposite wall, away from where they were being led.

Neil followed the Gladers down another short hallway. Two open doors waited for them. A black box beside each door blinked a green light. The Gladers were separated by gender. Boys entered the right door and girls entered the left.

Multiple bunk beds lined one wall. Across from the beds were four dressers. Matt opened one drawer and pulled out a clean shirt. He whooped excitedly and tossed the shirt to Kevin. Kevin marveled at the shirt, he ran his scared hand over the soft material.

The bathrooms were in a separate room attached at the end. Showers were separated into stalls and the toilets were hidden as well. Towels hung on hooks. There were five sinks with mirrors. Toothbrushes and tubes of toothpaste waited to be used for the first time.

Neil counted five windows, all protected by bars. A vent under the beds pumped cold air into the room. Aaron sat down on a bottom bunk lined with a blue blanket.

"Hurry up and shower," they were told. "Food is almost ready."

The door closed, leaving the boys alone. Another identical black box blinked red. Neil tested the handle. It was locked. Neil fought down the urge to pound his fist on the door and demand them to open it.

_Jean?_ Neil asked in the empty void of his mind. _Where are you?_

_Still with the doctor_, Jean answered. A heavy weight lifted from Neil's shoulders when he heard his voice.

_Why? Are you okay?_ Neil asked.

_I think so. They wanted to check everything else. I hit my head apparently._

Neil frowned. He hit his head too, but they didn't treat him like Jean.

_Okay, keep me updated_, Neil said.

_Of course._

All of the boys had already picked a change of clothes and started their showers. They were cheering and laughing with each other. Neil searched through what was left in the dressers. He found a plain green long sleeved shirt that would fit him. At the bottom of a drawer was a pair of gray sweats. He'd have to roll the cuffs a few times but it would work. There were also socks and underwear.

The bathroom had enough showers for all of them. Steam fogged up the mirrors and made the air stuffy. Neil stepped inside an empty stall and locked the door behind him. There was a cubby inside that protected his new clothes from getting wet. He stuffed them inside along with his backpack.

He kicked off his sneakers and undressed himself. The water didn't take long to warm up. After he shoved the disgusting clothes into the corner, Neil let the water beat down against his back. He watched the murky water swirl down the drain until it ran clear.

A soap dispenser was attached to the tiled wall. Neil pumped an ungodly amount in his hand and lathered his body as best he could. He used the soap as shampoo too, massaging his scalp with his fingers. When he was finished washing himself, he bent down and grabbed a sneaker. He continued to scrub them with his fingers until the bright orange was visible again.

After the sneakers were clean, Neil removed the bandages and let the soapy suds slide over his injuries. He turned off the water and patted himself dry with the towel. It smelled like lavender and he breathed in the pleasant scent.

The bandages around his hands and thigh were not as tight as the doctors or Renee's but they did the job. He tugged on the clean boxers and sweat pants, making sure to roll the ends before they got wet. The pocket knife pulled on the waistband. His shirt was slightly bigger than he wished. It covered his scars and that's all he cared about. He put on one sock at a time to keep the water from soaking them. His efforts were quickly diminished when he stuck his foot in the drenched sneaker. Neil grabbed his backpack, placed the towel around his neck and opened the stall door.

Most of the boys were shirtless. Matt was smiling and joking around with Kevin, who was trying to brush his teeth in peace. Andrew was drying his hair with a towel. He wore a long sleeved gray shirt and black sweatpants. He made eye contact with Neil for a second then returned his attention to Aaron.

More than half of them wore black sweats, the others wore gray. The ones who did have shirts on were mostly short sleeved with solid colors. Neil waited for an empty sink.

"I love this place," Matt said to Kevin. "I swear, I'm never leaving."

Kevin spat a mess of toothpaste. "Don't get too comfortable," he wiped his mouth.

"Ah, calm down Kev," Julien kidded from a few sinks down. He combed his hair with his fingers. "Can't you enjoy something for once in your life?"

A younger boy moved away from a sink between the two Runners and returned to the bunk beds. Neil stepped forward and took his place, not looking in the mirror. He unwrapped a white toothbrush.

"I'm not saying you can't enjoy this," Kevin said. "I'm saying we just need to be cautious. We don't know who these people are."

Neil listened as he squeezed a decent amount of toothpaste on the bristles. He wet the paste then furiously scrubbed his teeth, all while staring at the drain.

"They killed the Creators," Julien said. "That's good enough for me."

"You're all fucking naive," Kevin threw his toothbrush in the sink and stalked back to the bunks.

Neil turned on the faucet and cupped his hand under the stream. He brought his hand to his lips, slurping the water to rinse out his mouth. The mint flavor lingered on his tongue.

"What a dick," Julien scoffed. A few boys laughed at that.

Not wanting to engage in the conversation, Neil pat his mouth dry with his towel. He made the mistake of looking in the mirror. Blue eyes stared back. Neil's heart dropped into his stomach. He tilted his head to the side. The scar on his face was longer than Neil thought. It started below his mouth and ended where his jaw connected to his skull. Wet auburn curls stuck to his forehead, framing his sharp features.

This was what everyone saw. This was what he looked like. It shouldn't have terrified him, but it did. He wanted to scream, to punch the glass and cut out his eyes. He wanted to look like anyone except himself.

The question he kept coming back to was _why?_ Why did he hate it? Why did his face remind him of knives? He felt the iron scar on his shoulder with his hand. Why did it burn?

"You boys done?"

Neil turned around, the same man with the buzzed hair leaned against the wall.

When they were all appropriately dressed, the man escorted them back to the mess hall. The girls were already waiting for them. Dan, Renee and Allison saved a table for the Keepers. Matt smiled into Dan's hair and hugged her from behind. They wore the same clothes as the boys. The Keepers joined the table, even the twins which surprised Neil the most.

Neil was about to find an empty seat somewhere else when Kevin grabbed his backpack and pulled him with. Kevin sat beside Allison, then Neil sat next to Kevin. It went around with Andrew on Neil's right, then Aaron, Matt, Dan, Renee, and so forth. Neil did his best not to focus on how Andrew purposely put as much distance between them as possible.

"Where's Jean?" Renee asked Neil.

Neil avoided her gaze. He picked up the cup in front of him. "Still getting checked out," he said. "He hit his head."

Renee frowned, obviously thinking the same thing Neil did at first. At that moment plates were passed out. Each Glader received two slices of pizza with a small salad as a side.

"Holy fuck," Matt said with a mouthful of pizza. He groaned dramatically.

Neil watched as the others ate their food. His stomach growled angrily, though he couldn't bring himself to take a bite. He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth. He worried that Jean was taking too long. How long had they been there anyway? Neil was loosing track of time.

Two women guarded the hallway where Jean was supposedly still with the doctors. Each woman had a rifle strapped across her chest. The tallest had black hair cut in a sleek bob. The other pulled her brown hair back into a tight bun. Attached to their belts were keycards. Neil wondered if they would shoot him if he tried to take one.

"Eat," Andrew said. He pushed Neil's plate closer to him.

Neil stared down at the food. He gave in and took a bite. The pizza was amazing. The cheese practically melted on his tongue and the sauce was just shy from burning his mouth. He ate the rest as quickly as he could, shoveling the salad in his mouth and downing the water. Kevin stared at him with a disgusted look.

Neil wiped his face with a napkin. He tossed it on the empty plate. Then he swung one leg around the bench. Andrew grabbed Neil by the arm.

"What are you doing?" Andrew asked.

"Bathroom," Neil lied. Andrew held eye contact for a moment then let go.

Trying to remain causal, Neil walked at a respectable pace, headed directly to the women. They stared at him as he approached. Neil gave them a small smile and stepped between them. The bobbed woman pulled Neil back by his shirt.

"Can't go down there, kid," she said.

Neil faked a small laugh, "I forgot something. It'll just take a minute."

He tried to walk through them again but the same woman forcefully pushed him back. She glared down at Neil. He wasn't intimidated.

"Can you not fucking listen?" She spat out. "You can't go back there."

"I can hear you just fine," Neil answered, a smile forming on his lips. "I choose not to care."

"Karen," the shorter woman warned her partner.

"Calm down, Karen," Neil reached out and patted her shoulder.

She reacted the way Neil had hoped for. She grabbed Neil by the wrist, twisting his arm behind his back and pushing him against the wall. The rifle dug into his back. Neil turned his head so his cheek was smashed against the freshly painted wall.

"Fuck, let him go!" Karen's partner told her.

With his other hand Neil blindly reached behind him until he felt cool plastic. Karen looked over her shoulder to yell something. Andrew was out of his seat and making his way over. So were the other Keepers. Neil pulled the card free and shimmied awkwardly to tuck it into the front of his waistband. Karen turned her head back to Neil.

"You going to behave?" Karen sneered in Neil's ear.

"Yes," Neil answered. "Sorry, I’ll behave."

Karen considered his apology for a moment then released her hold. Neil massaged his tender shoulder. Andrew was there next, wedging himself between Karen and Neil. The two women returned to their positions in front of the hall. The Gladers went back to eating their meals.

"Inside, now," Andrew whispered. He nodded to the boys dormitory.

Neil followed Andrew. Neil turned around last minute to reassure the Keepers he was fine. Aaron wouldn't leave without Andrew telling him to fuck off.

Alone, Neil and Andrew stood a good three feet away from each other. The door wouldn't close so they left it wide open.

"Did you get it?" Andrew asked him.

Neil was puzzled for a moment. Then it clicked that Andrew knew what he had planned.

"Yes," Neil said.

Andrew stood there quietly, his fingers tugging on the sleeves of his shirt. Neil hadn't seen that nervous tick since Wicked, the time they first met each other.

"Go to sleep," Andrew said. He walked to the door which lead to the mess hall.

"Andrew," Neil hurried.

Andrew stopped but didn't turn around. He tensed, his shoulder muscles clenched underneath his gray shirt. Whatever Neil tried to say, the words caught in the back of his throat. Andrew left. He disappeared as he rejoined the Keepers.

A loneliness Neil never wanted to feel again crept up his legs and settled in his chest. He decided that it hurt more than being cut open.

Sitting on a bottom bunk furthest from the door, Neil pulled off his sneakers. He hid them under the bed. Next he shrugged off his backpack, letting it drop on the floor. The blanket was bright pink, soft to the touch and warm. He pulled the blanket up to his shoulders with his head sinking into the soft pillow. The key card dug into his skin. He stuffed the card under the pillow.

A full belly and clean clothes made him extremely tired. He tried many times to fall asleep. Although the bright lights and talkative Gladers made it hard to do so.

Thirty minutes later, the boys came into the dormitory. They were told they had two minutes until the lights went out. The door closed and locked. Neil rolled onto his side, facing the wall.

_Jean_, Neil said. _Jean, where are you?_

No answer.

_Jean_, Neil tried again. _Are you okay? Is she with you?_

Nothing.

The lights went off. A few boys told each other goodnight. Neil dug out his pocket knife. He traced the A to calm himself down. It worked to an extent. Neil brought the wooden handle to his lips, ignoring the dried blood, and firmly held it there. He counted in his head. First in English, then in French when he grew bored with the language.

An hour must have passed. Soft snores came from the bunk above him. Neil didn't know who it was and he didn't care enough to find out. His eyelids were heavy, they struggled to stay open. Neil lost the long battle and ignorantly succumbed to a heavy slumber.

-

"Abram, get up."

She spoke so softly, Abram almost didn't hear her. A hand ran through his hair and coaxed him awake.

"We have to leave," she whispered.

Abram blinked in the low light his lamp emitted beside his bed. His room was full of toys he never played with. There were stuffed animals, coloring books, figurines, and more. None of it he was allowed to touch.

"Mum?" he asked, voice high pitched.

"Put your shoes on," she pulled him up in a sitting position.

His mother wore a black jacket with the hood over her head. She had a duffel bag open on the floor, filled with clothes and canned food. Her face was hidden in the shadows. Abram heard the urgency in her tone. He pulled on his sneakers and then his favorite jacket that she tossed on the bed.

"What's wrong?" Abram asked her.

She was talking to herself, muttering things about hitchhiking to the west coast.

"Mum?" Abram had to stand on his toes to tap her shoulder.

Without another word spoken, she zipped up the bag and pulled the strap over her shoulder. She grabbed Abram by his wrist.

"Be quiet," she poked her head out of the door. The house was dark. Abram had never been allowed out of his room at night. "Do everything I say, understand?"

Abram nodded.

She pulled him into the hallway. Their shoes echoed on the marble floor. They hurriedly ran down the grand stairs and into the foyer. Abram's leg were shorter than the average boy his age, he ran to keep up. His mother opened the front door when another door slammed shut upstairs.

"Mary!" A deep voice boomed, making Abram freeze in place.

"Go, go," she whispered, tugging on Abram's arm.

Abram shook his head, his ribs were still bruised from dinner.

"Nathaniel!" The voice yelled, he was closer now.

Mary picked Abram up in her arms and sprinted to the car parked in the driveway. Abram wrapped his arms and legs around her. He tucked his face in the crook of her neck. She fumbled with the keys. The sleek black car unlocked and she pulled the passenger door open.

She ducked when the first gunshot fired, covering Abram's body with her own. On the second she dropped him on the leather seat and crawled over him to sit behind the wheel. She leaned over the console to close the door.

"Get down!" She screamed.

Abram was small enough to fit under the dash, he curled into a tight ball. Another shot fired, hitting the window. Luckily the car was bullet proof.

The engine revved to life. Mary slammed her foot on the gas pedal. She rammed the back of the car into the gate and spun out in the street. Quickly she changed gear and sped down the empty road.

"Put your seatbelt on!" Mary yelled, still pushing down on the pedal.

Abram did what she said. He pulled the seatbelt across his torso. The speedometer read sixty three miles per hour. Abram knew these roads were thirty five. He didn't tell her to slow down.

"Your name is Chris," Mary said, she looked in the rear view mirror every four seconds.

Abram stuttered, "W-what? What's going on? He's going to be mad. Mum, he's going to-"

"Quiet! Tell me your name!" Her knuckles turned white as she gripped the steering wheel.

"C-Chris."

She nodded.

Chris never came home.

-

Neil woke up with someone shaking him. They were yelling his name. He shot upright and shoved whoever it was away from him. Neil went for a gun under his pillow, instead he found a pocket knife. His thumb rubbed over the A and he could breathe again. When he caught his breathe, he thought he was still dreaming.

It was chaos in the dormitory. The boys were screaming and pointing at the windows. Loud, horrid animal-like screeches echoed in the room. Neil stood from his bed. It was Kevin who woke him.

"What's going on?" Neil yelled over the commotion.

Kevin had a pale green complexion, his eyes were wide like he saw a ghost. He pointed at the windows. Neil shoved his way through the mass of panicking bodies.

Broken glass seemed to have exploded on the dressers and the floor. Morning sunlight poured through the steel bars. But there was something blocking the view. Not something, someone.

It was a man trying to claw his way inside. Shards of glass cut his arms open. His eyes were wide and bloodshot. Open sores covered his sunburnt skin. What was left of his hair clumped together in a matted knot. The man's right cheek was torn open. Neil saw teeth and bone snapping shut as he screamed.

The smell hit him next. It was awful, like rotting flesh and burnt hair. Neil covered his nose with his tee shirt, stepping back from the windows. A large hand clamped down on Neil's shoulder. He spun around and was met with Matt.

Matt shook his head wildly. "The door's locked," he gasped. "We're trapped in here."

Neil looked over at the door. Aaron and Julien were trying to pick the lock somehow. They were unsuccessful. Kevin ordered everyone to stay away from the windows. Andrew watched from the top of his bunk.

Matt held Neil's head in both hands. He stared him down, but he wasn't looking in Neil's eyes. Matt said in shock, "What the fuck is on your face?"

Neil's hand shot up to touch his cheek where an irritated itch nagged at him. It burned to touch the spot.

"No," Neil whispered.

Neil ripped himself from Matt's grip and sprinted into the bathroom. He leaned forward against the sink, his reflection in the mirror crystal clear. His chest heaved as he panted.

Just under his cheekbone, a number four was written in black permanent ink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am once again, asking for your forgiveness. Honestly I’m so sorry it took forever to update! School has been crazy lately and my finals were all pushed up a week. Buuuuut with these three weeks off I’ll be able to write a lot!
> 
> So I blessed y’all with a longer chapter! Did you really think the Gladers were going to have some time to themselves? HAH!
> 
> Anyway, thank you so much for the comments on the last chapter!! I’m so happy you enjoyed it!
> 
> Buckle up partner, the Scorch Trials are about to begin...


	18. Newbie

Nathaniel clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms. His bare calves slid smoothly across clean white sheets. The black gown he wore was made out of a paper material. It crinkled loudly when he moved. His legs were thin and colorful with black and blue bruises. He tried to sit up but a sharp pain in his side stopped him from doing so. There was a needle under his skin on his upper forearm and was filled with a clear liquid. He followed the small tube with his eyes to a plastic bag hanging on a single hook beside the bed.

Something loud and annoying was beeping at a fast pace. Nathaniel turned his head to the right in an effort to see what it was. A heart monitor was displayed on a stand, a green line chased his racing heart thanks to the stickers stuck to his chest. He had to close his eyes as the blood in his ears rolled like a wave.

The sore muscles in his neck throbbed from holding up his head. As if he was moving through mud, he forced himself to lift his hand towards his forehead. Cool metal shocked his finger tips. Whatever it was, it cradled his skull like a crown. He blindly reached behind him and brushed past multiple wires.

Nathaniel dropped his arm on the bed with a heavy thud. The cold air pumping into the room made him shiver. The room was bright, so bright that for a moment he thought it was the sun. Except when he looked up, he saw Jean.

Jean was across from Nathaniel, standing at least six feet away from the end of the bed. Nathaniel could tell something was wrong from the way Jean wouldn't look directly at him. There were multiple restraints holding him firmly against a metal slab. The machine he was attached to looked medieval. Dark circles under Jean's eyes made him appear more like a skeleton than a man. He wore a headpiece similar to Nathaniel's. The wires climbed up a wall and into a small hole on the ceiling.

Standing behind a large window, a full story above the hospital room, a dozen or so people peered down in black suits. Some were hunched over computers. Nathaniel searched through their faces until he landed on Tetsuji's. He made sure not to look him in the eye for Jean's sake, although it was tempting. Tetsuji's long fingers wrapped around the handle of his cane. Standing obediently beside him was Riko, dressed in an ordinary Wicked jumpsuit.

Kevin wasn't hard to miss. He was taller than the rest, his head was low and he stared at the floor. His hands were behind his back like he was waiting for someone to tell him what to do. He looked up through his lashes and made eye contact with Nathaniel. They stared at one another for a moment. He always stared.

Static from a speaker in the corner of the room overlapped the heart monitor, creating a horrible, chilling sound. A second later, a woman cleared her throat and spoke in a dull, monotone voice.

"Test subjects three and four," the woman said. "Beginning experiment in ten, nine-"

The speaker cut off and Nathaniel continued the countdown in his head. Jean tensed his shoulders. He nodded once, a simple dip of his chin as an encouragement. At one, Jean immediately convulsed in pain as a series of electric shocks coursed through his body. The veins in his neck bulged. Nathaniel jerked at his restraints, forgetting that there would be consequences if he ever managed to free himself. Nathaniel could take another beating, he could take Riko's knives and the men he sent to him. But Neil couldn't handle this.

Saliva pooled from the corner of Jean's mouth, slowly dripping down into the patchy beard he'd grown out. That annoying beeping grew louder and faster as Nathaniel was on the verge of screaming.

_Please hear me_, Nathaniel thought. _Please_.

There was nothing. Jean's soft, subtle groans of agony were enough to know that it hadn't worked.

Nathaniel tried picturing his thoughts like a bullet, trapped in a chamber of a pistol where he was the only one who could pull the trigger. He imagined himself standing in front of Riko, with his crazed laughter and gloved hands. Nathaniel aimed the barrel at Riko's head. A quick spark burst and the bullet wizzed in the air, tearing Riko's skin and shattering the back of his skull.

In a rush, Nathaniel could hear French. He tasted metal.

_Let them_, Jean said. _Let them kill me_.

Nathaniel gasped and opened his eyes. There were so many thoughts, so many pleas for it to end. It was like an intrusion, like Nathaniel shouldn't be hearing these things. That these were Jean’s secrets, his wishes.

_I can hear you!_ Nathaniel thought, unsure of how to correctly communicate in that moment.

There was movement above him as the Creators excitedly jotted down notes and shook each other's hands. Nathaniel expected them to turn off the machine. And after only a few seconds Nathaniel had enough.

"Stop!" Nathaniel screamed. "You're killing him!"

Jean whithered in pain for an ungodly amount of time. Through out it all he pleaded to Nathaniel,_ I can't. Please, I can't._

Nathaniel screamed with him. He shared Jean's pain. They shared secrets that they were never able to say out loud. The hospital bed creaked and shook as Nathaniel tried to free himself to help Jean somehow. Jean sobbed in his mind, and Nathaniel sobbed as well.

These cries were painful. There were too many emotions, too many years built up behind them. Everything Jean had ever felt in his life was pumping through Neil's heart like a drug. It hurt more than being cut, more than being beaten with a cane, more than blistering sunburns and gunshot wounds.

When Jean had seemingly gone unconscious, the machine only then turned off. The lights flickered and became impossibly brighter. Jean sagged, letting the restraints hold himself up. His head hung from his shoulders. Nathaniel took staggering gasps of relief. He was seconds from blacking out, he felt the approaching darkness. Stealing a glance at the Creators, he saw Kevin.

Kevin's eyes were wet, his jaw clenched as he stared down at Jean. Riko also appeared to be affected. But his eyes didn't show pain or remorse, they were intrigued, excited. Nathaniel didn't want to know how the King would use this against them.

Static.

"Experiment successful," the woman said.

Silence.

Four.

Three.

Two.

Kevin.

Kevin stood in front of Neil with his scarred hand wrapped securely around Neil's wrist. Neil's cheek pulsed in small, sharp pains. Carefully, Kevin pried the pocket knife out from Neil's shaking fingers. When the knife was taken, Neil dropped to his knees. He sucked in short desperate breaths. His chest was tight as if he was still strapped down in Wicked.

He felt himself slipping back again. He swore he heard Riko's laugh and Jean's cries. They were so clear and distinct that he didn't hear Kevin speaking to him or a few of the other Gladers joining them in the bathroom.

A hand grasped the back of Neil's neck and shoved his head between his knees. With his forehead against the cool tile and arms trapped between his chest and legs, he focused on staying in the present. The process was slow. Eventually Riko's laughter faded to a hum, then to nothing but an echoing silence.

He picked up bits and pieces of what was being said back in the bedroom.

"-happened to it?" someone asked.

"-get out of here," another boy said at the same time.

"The door won't open," a more familiar person said. Neil recognized their voice as Aaron's.

Part of Neil wanted to stay like that, curled up in a ball where he couldn't see any of them. As much as he wished he could disappear, he knew he couldn't. Someone crouched beside him, casting a long shadow over his still shaking body. They crouched down and the hand squeezed his neck. Neil looked up, blinking against the harsh light.

Andrew looked him over, eyes flickering back to the tattoo more than once. He swiped the drying blood from Neil's cheek with his thumb. Behind Andrew, Kevin waited. His knuckles were white as he gripped the knife. He tried but failed not to stare at Neil’s face. Standing in the doorway was Matt, who was nervously chewing on his thumb nail. He kept a reasonable distance from Neil. Most likely because Andrew would have prevented him from coming closer.

Neil focused on the deep dark circles under Andrew's eyes and his unruly hair. Neil had never seen Andrew so... tired. Even in the Glade, he always had cared about his appearance by keeping himself clean and kept. But now he looked close to dropping dead. He reminded Neil of the morning after the Maze, but somehow worse.

Someone was missing though, Neil noticed, besides Jean. He looked around, trying to figure out who.

Nicky.

Neil's chest ached and that invisible weight on his shoulders grew heavier.

How many Gladers died the day before? How many did Nathaniel kill?

Nicky. Seth. Lucy. Janie. Mary.

Tetsuji's smile widened in Neil's mind as he swung his cane, _You're going to wish you died with your mother._

"Yes or no?" Andrew asked.

Neil's attention snapped back to the man holding his neck like he could break it.

"Yes," Neil swallowed.

Andrew helped Neil to his feet by placing one hand under his elbow and the other on his waist. His fingers were calloused and his hands were still covered with bruises and various scrapes. The sleeve on his arm bunched up just a little. Neil noticed Andrew had not removed the thick bandages on his forearms.

When Andrew stepped back, only then did Matt come surging forward. He looked Neil over once, twice, then pulled him into a bone crushing hug.

Neil groaned in one part pain and the other annoyance. "You just saw me," Neil said.

That only made Matt squeeze harder, "That was before you tried to carve your face out." He pulled Neil back by his shoulders. Neil subconsciously glanced at Kevin. "We'll find who did that," Matt said, suddenly very serious.

"Don't have to," Neil shrugged him off, both physically and mentally.

"What do you mean?" Kevin asked, handing the knife back to Neil.

Neil took the knife. He stared at it for a while then slipped it into his pocket. "I think I know who did it," he answered.

There was only one person on this planet who would feel the need to mark what was his with something so permanent. A look of anger flashed across Andrew's face. Neil suspected he already knew as well.

Neil began walking back to his bunk, passing Aaron and the others still crowded near the windows. Aaron continued to talk about planning an escape. The ceiling, trying the vent again, or prying the bars off, which was an immediate no from the boys.

"I have the key," Neil interrupted their conversation. Aaron glared at him but said nothing.

Neil grabbed the card from under his pillow. The card had no label, no name or any other indication of ownership. It was thin and white, with a thick black line on one side. He led the boys to the door.

"Do you think he's still here?" Andrew asked Neil just as he was about to swipe the card through the black box.

Neil hesitated, thinking the question over. He looked over his shoulder. The rest were confused about Andrew's question, obviously wanting to know who _he_ was.

"Still have your knives?" Neil asked Andrew.

The corner of Andrew's mouth tugged upwards in a rare smile and his eyes narrowed. "Open the door, Josten," he said.

Neil couldn't stop the grin from breaking out across his own face as Andrews smile was infectious. 

He turned back to the lock, swiped the card, and opened the door when the red light turned green. They all quickly exited the dorm. 

The foyer was closed off with two double doors. There were no lights, the only way they were able to see was from the little sunlight streaming through the windows. To their right was the girl's dorm. Matt knocked. When no one answered he banged his fist. 

"Dan!" Matt yelled.

"Matt?" It was Renee. Her voice was muffled, yet loud enough to make out. "Is that you?"

"It's me," Matt answered. "We're going to open the door, okay?"

Renee's response was too distorted to understand. Neil stepped forward beside Matt and swiped the card, when the light switched form red to green, Matt pushed the door open.

"Fucking finally," Allison huffed as soon as Neil saw her.

The girls were waiting patiently, some of them were shaken up but the rest were comforting one another in a way the boys never could. Dan saw Matt and instantly relaxed. Renee retreated back to let them in. No one moved. There was an odd moment of silence before Neil stepped into the room.

It was nearly identical to the boy's dorm. A few of the bunks had been knocked over and ripped apart. Frowning at the mess, Neil walked across the room to the barred windows. Glass crunched under his shoes in a satisfying way.

He peered outside.

The horizon stretched on for forever. Heat distorted his vision if he stared long enough. There was miles and miles of sand, so much that it looked unreal. On the ground a woman laid under the sweltering sun. Just like the man in the boy's dorm, her skin bubbled with blisters and clumps of hair hung from her head. The end of a metal pole from one of the bunk beds was clogged into her throat. Dried blood dribbled from the wound. Neil stepped back, he hit something sturdy and spun around. Dan stood there, staring at the corpse with a far away look in her eyes.

"Cranks," she said.

A strange feeling settled in the depths of Neil's stomach. A feeling similar to standing alone in the Maze. Neil was suddenly very aware of the noise in the small room. Aaron was making his rounds, observing the girls injuries for any signs of infection. Matt, Andrew, and Kevin met Neil and Dan at the window. The five of them stared quietly at the Crank.

"We need to get out of here," Kevin broke the silence. The four of them faced him.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea," Dan argued. She looked back outside. "I can't see anything out there."

Matt leaned forward between Neil and Dan for a better look. He winced at the Crank then searched out into the bright outdoors.

"She's right," Matt agreed. "Maybe those people are still here though. From last night."

Neil subconsciously met eye contact with Renee, who had been ease dropping from afar.

"They took Jean," Neil announced.

The Gladers faltered to an uncomfortable silence.

"How do you know?" Kevin asked.

How could Neil explain that Jean and him were able to speak with their minds? They wouldn't believe him. They'd think he'd gone mad from the Changing.

"I just do," Neil settled on.

Kevin chewed on his lip before saying, "He could still be here."

Neil hoped he was right.

With the boys and girls reunited, they crowded back into the small hallway. Neil surveyed the doors blocking the foyer. There was no black box or lock that needed to be picked. He placed his hand on the handle, shivering from the cool metal. He counted to three then pushed the door open.

At the same time the doors to the dorms slammed shut. Neil jumped as he was swallowed by darkness. He couldn't see his hands in front of his face, or the Gladers behind him.

He could smell though. And it was awful. The pungent scent made his eyes water and mouth taste like rotten meat. It was a familiar thing, it reminded him of the Blood House and how they would leave the carcasses out in the sun to rot. He pulled his shirt over his nose to block it out.

"What is that?" Matt coughed somewhere to Neil's left.

Neil felt along the wall with his free hand, walking further away from the saftey of the Gladers. He felt the dips and cracks of paint until finally the perturbing hardness of plastic.

Someone grunted. "Careful," they said, "there's something over here."

Neil flipped the switch. He shut his eyes to get used to the sudden light. Someone screamed. Neil spun around.

His stomach twisted, his throat squeezed to keep last nights dinner down. Neil pressed his hand harder against his nose and mouth. Except his hands trembled and his heart raced.

A dozen or so bodies hung from the ceiling by ropes tied around their necks. A few of their faces were beaten so badly that they swelled into indistinguishable features. A man's jaw was fractured, skin and muscle being the only things keeping it attached to the body. Their hands were severed off at the wrist. Judging by the jagged flesh and multiple slashes on their forearms, it wasn't meant to be a clean cut. A few of their feet were also removed. Some at their knees and others at their ankles.

The body closest to Neil was a woman’s. She had dark hair that was matted to her skull with sweat. Her stomach had been cut allowing the intestines to fall out. Neil dared himself to step closer. The woman's eyes were still open and tears stained her bruised cheeks.Her face were somewhat familiar.

It was Karen.

The sudden recognition made Neil turn away and vomit. The contents of his stomach splashed on the tiled floor, ruining his clean sneakers and adding another horrible smell to his over whelmed senses. He dry heaved for a solid minute, and when finished, shakily wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

_Jean_, Neil carried his voice in the emptiness of his mind. _Jean, can you hear me? Where are you? I need to know you're okay._

He waited for any type of response.

"What kind of monster would do this?" Allison whispered loud enough for Neil to hear.

Neil wobbled backwards on unsteady legs. He leaned against the wall for support, eyes shut and lips parted. Suddenly remembering his dream and the terror he felt when he heard that man yell his name, struck him harder than the butchered bodies in front of him.

Butchered.

That word made him double over again. Nothing else came up except an acidic taste and spit. Wiping his mouth with the collar of his shirt, he straightened himself. Thankfully, he wasn't the only one who couldn't handle it. A handful of the Gladers had thrown up as well, including Kevin. Renee was by his side rubbing his back while he struggled to control himself.

"Neil," Andrew shouted.

Neil looked past the corpses. Andrew stood near the kitchen in front of a door that was still closed. Neil slowly made his way over, dragging his feet while he walked. The Gladers took this as their cue to follow. They were all desperate to leave the foyer.

Andrew didn't seem shaken by the gruesome scene before them. He stepped out of the way for Neil. A silver plaque was screwed in the wall with precise letters engraved into the metal:

**JEAN MOREAU**

**GROUP B**

Neil opened the door without hesitation. A draft caught it and it banged against the wall. He stepped inside before it could close on him.

The room was smaller than the boy's and girl's dormitory. There were no windows, and more importantly no Cranks, but the ceiling light was dull enough to not cause a headache. Along the left wall, closest to the entrance, was a dresser. One of the drawers had been ransacked. There was also another door that must have led to a bathroom. A bunk bed was shoved into one corner. The bottom was occupied. Neil breathed in deeply and held the air in his lungs, soaking in the relief.

Jean had pulled the blanket over his head, his knees were tucked into his chest. The red blanket rose and fell softly in time with his breathing.

"Jean," Neil said. His voice cracked, throat still sore. "Jean, get up."

Jean groaned and shuffled his legs but didn't wake. Neil walked to the bed with Andrew right behind him. The Gladers came too, filling up any space left in the small room.

"Jean," Neil said louder, keeping his voice steady that time. "Wake up."

Jean grunted annoyingly, a low growl in the back of his throat. Neil clenched his jaw. He yanked the blanket off. The coarse fabric fell onto the floor in a messy pile. Neil looked back at Jean and froze.

Instead of buzzed black hair, this young man had long and yellow waves that sprawled out over the pillow. The beginning of a beard made him look rugged. He had a small cut on his forehead, bruises on his arms, and a couple of stitches on the back of his right hand. His bare chest was smooth and didn't match the scars Neil had memorized on Jean's own skin. The man only wore black sweats and he draped his arm over his eyes to block out the light.

Neil was furious.

"Who the fuck is that?" Allison asked, portraying Neil’s thoughts verbally.

The man jerked up into a sitting position at Allison's voice. His deep golden eyes bore into Neil's. They flickered down to Neil's cheek. He then raised his fist like he was about to swing. Andrew stepped forward but Neil was quicker. He blocked the lazy punch by catching the man's fist with his left hand. With his right, he pulled the pocket knife out and flipped open the blade. Before the blonde got any ideas of running, Neil pressed the knife against his neck.

Dan sighed, "Fucking hell-"

"Where is he?" Neil lowered his voice to a whisper.

The man swallowed. He scanned the room. His brows narrowed as he noticed something but Neil didn't turn to see what. Fed up with waiting, Neil put his weight down until the blade cut skin, not deep enough to bleed out but enough to cause some pain. Yet the man didn't try to jerk away, instead he relaxed and stared up at Neil.

"You're all the same, aren't you?" the Newbie said.

Neil didn't expect that. Whatever threat he had planned died in the back of his throat.

"Um," Matt interrupted cautiously, "Neil?"

Neil looked behind his shoulder. Matt was standing in front of the bathroom with his hand still on the handle. His body language was rigid and on high alert. Neil turned back to the man, tried to shake that odd feeling away, and eventually let him go. Andrew made sure the Newbie would stay by a simple hard stare.

"What?" Neil asked Matt when he walked towards him. Matt didn't answer. "What is-"

He followed Matt's line of sight to the mirror above the sink. Neil's stomach bottomed out and his fingers reluctantly tightened around the knife. Written on the white tiles was a message, smeared in blood by two fingers. Where the blood was heaviest it streaked down the wall and dried before it could reach the floor. It took a minute until the ringing in Neil's ears dulled, and it took even longer to read the words:

**WELCOME BACK, JUNIOR**

Fear. There was only fear. That, and a rush of memories full of red lipstick and sneering smiles. Neil pressed his hands hard against his ears as they were flooded with her voice.

_You don't want to upset him. Do you, Junior?_

_Where are you, Junior? I know you can hear me._

_You're so handsome, Junior, just like your father._

_Don't cry, Junior._

Neil twisted his fingers in his hair and pulled. When he looked up, he stared at his reflection. Though it wasn't himself who stared back, not exactly. His eyes were bluer, sharper. His hair brighter and his jaw more defined. He didn't recognize the person standing before him as Neil, or as Abram. He saw the Nathaniel he was supposed to be, the one Wicked wanted, for whatever reason he couldn't remember.

_Junior. It's fitting, don't you think?_

"Lola," Neil whispered her name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First and foremost: I AM SO SORRY FOR THE WAIT! I feel so bad, it’s been months since I’ve updated. Roast me in the comments, I deserve it lol
> 
> Second: YAY I UPDATED!! This chapter is a lil short but you guys deserve something at least.
> 
> Anywayyy, let me know what you think of our Newbie. Any guesses who it might be??
> 
> Thank you for all of the love and support, and if you’re still reading this, wow THANK YOU!! I will try my damn hardest to get the next chapter out before I turn 80, I swear.
> 
> (Come follow me on tumblr @ uberimmortal)


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